Justify the Thrill: A Rock and A Hard Place
by exempt from sanity
Summary: Rewrite of the original Justify the Thrill. Spot leads a gang of notorious thieves fated to be caught. Jack, the prince of Tralee, leads a band of admirable nobles. Together they are destined for greatness. AU
1. Thieves Prologue

**Justify the Thrill: A Rock and A Hard Place**

**Thieves Prologue**

**Exempt From Sanity**

1

The bustle of the city was not even the slightest bit unusual. The vendors set up their carts on the same street corners, and the same shops opened their doors. The same guards patrolled the streets, and the same crimes were carried out right under their noses. Not that it was difficult to miss. No one expected it of those who committed them. At least not the nobles who stood around and watched. A thief in their eyes was older, and experienced, toughened and malicious.

A short, dark haired boy darted through the already crowded streets. He moved as though he had lived there all his life, darting through the crowds with a practiced ease and talent. In one hand he clutched several rolled parchments, and had he not looked as poor as he probably was one would have assumed him a student.

Upon rounding a corner he sent an older gentleman and himself tumbling to the ground. He muttered a quick apology scooped up his maps and went on his way. He glanced over his shoulder at the guard near them, but everyone did that, guards made people paranoid. It wasn't until he rounded another corner that he pulled the small but heavy money pouch from his pocket and whispered, "Sucker."

"Did you get them?" an even shorter and scrawnier figure appeared out of nowhere behind him. Serious blue eyes tried to look over his shoulder as the other boy pulled back the hood of a cloak and ran a hand through short blonde hair.

"And a bit extra." The brunette held up the money sack.

The blonde rolled his eyes, "I swear, if you get caught for something as petty as stealing some guys purse I'll break you out and hang you myself." He snatched the money purse and shoved it into his own pocket. "Come on, and try to keep your hands to yourself the rest of the way back."

The two boys walked out of the alley and joined the throngs in the crowded streets once again. The blonde moved even faster than his taller counterpart. The made their way into a darkly painted building, The Pernick Tavern. Despite the early hour it was already crowded with men young and old, some of who were near being kicked out. The barkeep was a young man with a shock of longer blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was arguing with one of the travelers over how much alcohol the man should have. Blue always won, the man would be out on his ass before long.

His grandfather sat near the stairs and nodded to the two as they passed, "You lot be good, you hear. I don't want to hear about you being caught."

"Yes sir," They chorused.

At the end of the hall there was a set of rooms that had long since been paid for. They were not rented out but made a home by the two young boys and their friends. The blonde neither knocked on the door, nor announced his presence and instead just walked into the room. Four young teenagers sat on the two beds the room held. Two taller boys, one blonde with a patch and the other dark haired with glasses. A dark haired and fair-haired girl sat across from them.

"You got the maps?" The blonde girl asked.

"I got the maps."

Within a minute all six children were gathered around one of the beds. The largest of the three parchments was unrolled on the bed before them. The map, though it was more a blueprint than a map, was a roughly drawn copy of the palace and its surrounding buildings. The stables, the prison, and the guards' cabins were specifically highlighted.

"I figured we'd probably go in above the stable. It won't be too hard to get in, and it'll be easy to hide if we need to get out or get stuck. So we just have to walk down that hallway and the staircase. That gets us to the hall-"

"Which is where we're going to start. Depending on how much is actually there we will or will not continue on to the next chamber. And remember, we only want the smaller things. It's not worth it if they'll notice it was missing right away. Jewelry, decorative daggers, jewels, gold coins, things like that." The second two parchments were rolled open over the first. One was a more elaborate map of the hall they would be working it, plus the staircase and their entrance and exit point. The other was a list of supplies. "Any objections." The blonde, despite being small and scrawny, was quite obviously in charge.

"It's a straight stairway and we've got one way in and out," the boy with the eye patch sighed, "Most wouldn't chance it."

"You want out?" one eyebrow curved upward.

"Hell no."

"Good, now listen up. We need to be ready by tonight. This is how we're going to pull this off…"

1

A/N: We're back. Are you happy? We realize this hasn't been updated in forever, and it probably won't be the most often worked upon story for either of us this winter. Anyway, we didn't like where the last one was going and decided to start over. The story will be in three parts. Here's the beginning of the first. More should be up soon. Hope whoever read this before leaves a review to tell us what they think of the new ideas.

Forever,

Exempt From Sanity


	2. Nobles Prologue

**Justify The Thrill: A Rock And A Hard Place**

**Nobles Prologue**

**Exempt From Sanity**

1

The young prince walked to the practice courts flanked by two of the king's guards. Even his practice hose and tunic were the deep red and blue of the crown, and spotless and new, despite their existence being put in place to collect dirt and blood. The guards stopped as they reached the entrance. The weapons master was waiting patiently as three other young boys also trailed into the room.

There was a lanky blonde dressed all in yellow and two dark haired boys, the smaller of the two dressed all in blues and the large broad one in a regal brown. They were all late, as was usual. One might expect the weapons master to allow them some slack as it was their first day of training since the previous spring. The four boys knew better. They would be there an extra hour and receive chores on top of that. Even the prince would not escape punishment.

"Highness," the larger of the two dark-haired boys greeted the prince with a quick, careless bow.

"Morning," the prince replied.

"If you are done with your hollow greetings then perhaps we may begin our lesson," the weapons master lectured. He did not bother to bow to the young prince. He nodded toward a pile of staffs, a useful weapon. Each boy fetched one and stood in line at attention.

"I am sorry to hear of your loss, highness," the weapons master allowed the prince, "Your mother was a great queen."

"She was," the prince agreed. His mother had died during childbirth little more than a week before. The queen and the young princess both perished in the tragic day.

The weapons master raised his voice once more, "Ten laps! Hold the staff over your head, arms straight! Yes, Dutchy, that means you!"

He continued yelling, critiquing every misstep or movement that displeased him. He pushed them to run faster and harder with each lap. After ten laps were completed they would run ten more and still ten more after that, until he was satisfied. He knew as well as any how a months rest could slacken a well-trained body.

After that they would review what they had learned the year before. None of them would remember every block, attack, and counter. None would remember where his hands went and every exact movement and placement. Muscles remembered these movements after many years of practice. This time was far away for the four young nobles. They would accomplish little before the end of their practice that day, even with an extra hour tacked on.

-

-

A/N: There, the noble's prologue. I'm sorry it took so long. We seem to have had no time to write in the past few months. College essays are a bitch. Another chapter should be posted very quickly as we are basically just editing some of the old chapters for the next few. There may be noticeable differences eventually though. Thanks for the reviews. Keep up the feedback! Anyway, off to work on that.

Forever,

Exempt From Sanity

12/27/04


	3. Spot: Then We Improvise

Justify The Thrill: A Rock And A Hard Place

Chapter 1

Exempt From Sanity

-

It wasn't an unusual sight; half a dozen dark figures stealing through the nearly pitch black palace. The only light was a rare torch that had been left for the wandering guards. There was a short interval of hushed laughter, which was quickly cut off by a hissing voice.

"Be careful, if we get caught we're as good as dead." The owner of the stern voice pulled several dirty burlap sacks out of the one he was carrying. "Stay in this hall and listen carefully. Sound the alarm if you hear them coming." He handed a sack to each of them and the small group branched off, picking small contributions to take from the decorated tables and carefully adorned suits or armor. Their sacks were quickly filled with pieces of gold, silver, expensive jewels and anything else that could possibly be worth something on the street.

There was a sudden echoing off a wooden surface; three sharp taps. Each of them recognized the signal and dove for hiding places that had already been carefully planned. Many held their breath as they waited for the warning to be over. It had nearly gotten them caught several times before. Guards walked past as the surveyed this part of the castle. It was amazing how dumb these guards were; they didn't even notice anything missing.

After they had passed the group slowly emerged again and met in the middle of the room.

"I think that's enough for tonight Spot," one whispered, "If we take any more we risk them hearing us, and besides we've got plenty."

Their leader nodded, "Alright. Back up the stairs and out that window then." He moved past them to go ahead and check that it was safe in the halls that led back to the stairway. A low window had served as their entry point for several years and was a quick exit in all cases. As it landed them in the stables where there were always places to hide if they were seen.

The groups slowly worked their way up the stairs, carefully holding their sacks so that the possessions inside would not clank against each other. It was after all, a carefully practiced routine that they were carrying out. They had been in the palace many times before for the same reason. It was the reason there was such a high price for their capture. Someone surely would have turned them in by now had it been for the fact that no one had ever seen their faces. Working under the cover of darkness did have its advantages.

'Ompff.' There was a sudden noise followed by the sound of an entire bag of stolen goods tumbling down the stairs. The entire group turned to find that one of their own had tripped, and in turn dropped his bag. His eyes were wide as he looked up at them and mouthed, 'maybe no one heard it.' Any hope of this was immediately dashed as the sound of several guards coming in their direction echoed through the stairway.

"Go!" Spot shouted, abandoning any hope of recovering what they had dropped, He helped pull the fallen thief to his feet from his position on the stairs and the two of them began making their way toward the exit. The fallen having twisted an ankle made it harder to walk. He was cursing up a storm at their bad luck.

"Mouse, help me." Spot said. He handed the other boy off to a lean girl standing near the window and glanced out. The others were near the ground or running. "Get him down there." Another order escaped his lips and he turned to face the oncoming guards. He pulled out a carefully crafted black cane, tipped with a gold emblem. As they approached he swung at the closest one and barely missed hitting the man's face. He was not afraid to fight them. As he swung he was mentally thinking of ways to kill the boy who had fallen for getting them caught because unless some kind of miracle occurred they were all caught. And if they were caught they were as good as dead. Before he could swing again, however, the heavy metal of the flat of a sword came in contact with his temple and the world around him plummeted into darkness. 

-

When he awoke he was sitting in a cold dark dungeon cell. He didn't even have to open his eyes to describe it. The fact that he was lying on a bed of straw; the fact that he could smell nothing but what would make most gag was more than enough. Surprisingly he had never been in the same position before. A young boy takes in all the wild fantasies his father tells him. In Spot's case they had been ones in which his father spent his adolescent years in and out of prison. The vivid descriptions helped Spot to place himself without seeing his surroundings. He opened one eye a slit and glanced about the cell. There were two others sitting on a bed against the opposite wall. Their shapes were blurry so he let his other eye creep open. Yes, it was them. He let out a sigh and began to push himself into a sitting position. 

At the sudden change in height his head began to throb and he let out a pitiful moan, "Damn."

"Spot, I wouldn't try to get up if I were you," Mouse said.

He ignored her and forced himself to sit with his feet hanging off the edge of the bunk. He allowed a one-word question as he tried to regain his equilibrium. "Others?"

"All got out except us," She yawned, "Once you went down I knew we were caught."

"Well we wouldn't have gotten caught if some lame excuse for a thief hadn't tripped," He growled, glaring at the third member of the party.

"Hey," Racetrack cried, "It wasn't my fault that I tripped. I swear, something ran in front of me, a cat or something."

Spot shook a hand in forgiveness, "Ok." Then he turned to look at Mouse, "So how's his ankle?"

"Twisted it. I've been trying to get them to send down a healer for him, but being a woman, and a thief at that…"

Spot stood and made his way over to the barred wall that faced the hall. "Hey you!" he called to the nearest guard.

"What d'you want?" the guard asked without moving. 

"I want a healer down here to look at my boy's ankle, now." His face grew red from anger as the guard stood there looking at him.

"I ain't in the habit or taking orders from prisoners, boy, now sit down. Someone should be down to question you in a few minutes."

Spot stood by the door and waited. He was always stubborn, especially when it came to his friends, and Race was as close as you could get. The two had grown up together in a small tavern after the death of Race's mother. Race had saved his hide more than once, and his debts were not easily forgotten. He glared at the guard until there was the sound of another man coming down the hall. He leaned against the bars as hard as he could, willing them to break or at least bend so he could get a good look at this new person.  
A young man, who actually did not look much older than himself stopped in front of the cell. Each was silent as they watched the other. Spot glared at the noble, knowing this man would most likely be of just as little help as the guard.

He hissed, "I want a healer down here to see my boy now."

The noble looked at him as though he were insane. "You aren't in the position to be ordering me around boy," he snapped, "I am Wolfgang of Adiana, and I can either help you or not. Now, give me your name."

Spot was aware that giving his name would, even if he escaped, sentence him to death.

A voice from a nearby cell called out, "That's Spot Conlon and a few from his gang. They've been stealing from the palace for years."

The noble looked over at the cell and then back to the thief in front of him, "If that man is correct then his sentence will most likely be reduced. Now, is he telling me the truth?"

He flexed his jaw and spoke; "I want a healer down here to look at my boy's ankle."

The noble snorted, "Just your boy. You sure you don't want someone to look you over as well." He reached through the bars to touch the bruise on Spot's temple but Spot quickly pulled back out of his reach. The noble shook his head, "It's not going to help you to be stubborn. Don't make me come in there and question you."

"You come in here and that sword of yours will be in my hand and at your throat in a second," Spot threatened. "Don't think you're anything special. I'll be out of here before you know it."

"I doubt that."

"I want a healer, and I'm not talking to anyone until one is sent down." He turned and strode back to his bunk. There he sat, staring at the young noble with eyes as blue and as hard as ice.

The noble on the other hand stood there for a moment before going back down the hall. He was young, and had yet to learn how to deal with prisoners. Many of the guards even snickered behind his back at the hard time Spot had given him.

"Mush!" The young noble called to a page. "Get a healer down here then bring the boys to the interrogation room." Glancing back toward the thieves cell Wolfgang caught Spot's smirk and turned toward the page once more. "And Mush, take your time, that's an order!" As the noble boy turned to leave once more he could hear the girl complaining loudly.

"How come he's only interrogating you two anyway? What, is he too good to question me? Its 'cause I'm a woman isn't it! Ohhhh! If I were out of here I'd take that sword of his and wipe that smirk off his face!" As soon as those words escaped the girl's lips, the knight's sword was suddenly unsheathed in mid-air before clanging to the ground. Wolfgang turned on his heel glaring at Mouse before snatching his sword from a hesitant guard.

"I… uh…" Mouse managed before the noble stormed up the stairs thinking, 'why me'? .

Race began laughing, "Damn Mouse! You've been holding out on us. I thought you could only control water!"

"So did I."

As Mouse looked at her hands helplessly trying to figure out how she had done anything Race sat laughing. It was in his nature, sarcasm, humor and wit. If they were all going to be dead in a few days at the most he might as well laugh about it then

About a half hour went by before the squire, Mush, returned to the cell with a healer in tow. After another fifteen minuets the boy was healed and walking slowly around the cell. The girl hadn't spoken since the incident and barely noticed her companions being led out of the dungeon, hands bound behind their backs. 

-

"Now I'm going to give you thugs one last chance to answer me and then it's the noose for you!" Wolfgang threatened with frustration. The teen towered over the captives with his piercing green eyes and menacing glare. He'd recently acquired an apprenticeship of sorts under a prominent knight and wasn't the least bit happy in receiving such a monotonous interrogation as his first task. The leader of the thieves, called Spot, sat across from him and looked to be around seventeen, though short and with a wiry build he appeared to have a strong will and determination. Knowing the boy must have grown up on the streets he was probably more muscular and capable than he looked, talents that Wolfgang wasn't keen on exploiting.

Spot sat in a casual posture legs spread apart, shoulders slouched down a bit in a relaxed position, head up and proud. It was obvious he was neither frightened, not intimidated. He had heard many stories of worse situations in his younger years, and knew his way out of any situation. Plus, acting cocky always made the enemy nervous. He wore loose black breeches accompanied by a large white shirt buttoned halfway beneath a black leather tunic. Dark colors had concealed him well the previous night. Now they only served to make him appear guiltier, not that he would deny his guilt. This teen had obviously stolen the tunic along with the leather boots, gloves, and belt that had once held a gold tipped cane. The cane was important, and something he was determined to get back. Gifts from his father had been few and far between, and this one was important. He would get it back if it killed him.

The other boy was slouched as close to the edge of the chair as he could have possibly gotten, his legs comfortably propped upon the table separating the adversaries. He was just as cocky and self-assured as his leader, though perhaps less of a threat. Now that his ankle was healed he was bouncing and stretching his foot, as though ready to bolt at any moment. The boy who appeared to be taller of the two, though by only a few inches, kept his chin tucked down guiltily as though admiring the crimson shirt that was at least two sizes too big, unlike the leader this boy sported brown breeches and boots, which were leather as well. Crimson was the color of mapmakers. By noticing the charcoal smudges on his hands and the scraps of paper sticking out of his pockets it could have been assumed he had planned the robbery. The leader's silence combined with the boy's evasive responses fueled Wolfgang's fury. For one so privileged it was difficult for him to understand the ties between these boys and their other friends. Thieves were supposed to be the kind of people who turned their back on one another in an instant as far as his knowledge was concerned.

"You do realize by refusing to answer my questions you will inevitably be sentenced to a most excruciating public death. Or is that what you want?" The noble hissed through clenched teeth.

"Hey! There ain't no dungeon strong enough ta hold the likes of the Rogue's! You'd best waste us now while we're still here!" It was the taller of the two that replied. He had used the nickname given to their little group by the overzealous nobles. 

"So you are members of the elusive Rogue Guild." Wolfgang smirked as the boy confirmed his suspicions and cowered under the leaders glower. "Mush!" The noble called to the page who waited outside the door. "Take them back to their cell. I'm sure their little girly friend will be most helpful."

"I wouldn't count on it buddy," the leader finally spoke in a sharp voice. "See she's from Cascade, the ocean city behind the Waterfall Taji."

"Is there a point to your rambling?"

"I wouldn't mess with her is all. You know what they're capable of."

Wolfgang leaned against the wall to examine the nameless girl before him. He'd heard legends of the Cascade natives though he hadn't believed them until now. It was said they had some kind of unity with water granting them the ability to control it, and also allowed them to breathe in it. The girl opposite himself fit all descriptions of Cascadian's he'd been told. She was a small girl of fifteen as short as the Rogue leader; her long blonde hair was hidden beneath the sandy brown hood of her cloak. 

"Untie her hands."

"What! Wolfgang, are you crazy!" The page exclaimed.

"Just do it!"

Mumbling of his friend's foolishness, Mush cut the ropes holding the girls hands behind her back and she slowly she brought them into view. She rubbed her sore wrists gently before removing the warm cloak, revealing a pale suede, long sleeved, form-fitting dress with a pleated skirt, which reached just above the knee. The only accessories she wore were knee length suede boots, a suede strap at her waist both of which had been adorned with daggers until her capture, and a light purple necklace that held a shark tooth. Come to think of it, her entire outfit seemed to have a few light purple threads here and there depicting various intricate designs. Now she stared at Wolfgang through large, curious, cerulean blue eyes.

"Why are you being so kind to me?"

"I've got a proposition for you girly, and I highly suggest you accept it if you plan on living." The noble ignored her question and continued. "You're going to tell me everything I want to know about this little Rouge Guild of yours starting with your name."

"And why would I do a thing like that?"

"I'll tell the court that you were forced to help them and you'll be free. Your name?"

"Cassandra today, Diana tomorrow." 

"I don't get it! Do you people value your lives at all?" Wolfgang yelled throwing his hands in the air. The girl merely folded her arms raising an eyebrow.

"Did you really think I would sell out my friends? What kind of person do you take me for anyway?"

"These so called 'friends' of yours didn't seem to have any problems telling me all about you, Cascadian." He sneered. "You have two choices girly, join your 'friends' in death, or tell me what I need to know and be spared."  
The girl silently picked up her cloak and walked over to where the page stood near the door

"Take me to the others." She demanded. Mush sent a questioning look toward Wolfgang who nodded, before escorting the girl back to the dungeon. 

-

"Wolfgang, are you in there?" His highness, Prince Jack of Tralee called banging lightly on his friends door. His voice was insistent and calm, reminding Wolfgang of King Adonis' calm, patient demeanor.

"Wolfgang, if you are in there open this door now!"

Unfortunately the prince lacked his father's patience.

Jack listened closely through the door as he heard a low groan and his friend's clanging footsteps followed by the tell tale click of the door being unlocked. 

"So…uh…bad day?" Jack questioned after entering the room.

Wolfgang only shot him a look that clearly said you have no idea, before flopping head first upon the bed. "Did you require something, Highness?"

"I just came by to see how your project went. Not too well I gather, from the looks of things."

"Worse than that, it was horrible," came the muffled reply. "I mean first I go to the dungeon thinking it can not possibly be that bad, right?

"Well I suppose not, we have seen how these things work first hand."

"That's what I thought and I couldn't have been more wrong in my life. First their damn leader, Spot something or other, was so damn stubborn. He was not intimidated at all. This mere commoner completely humiliated me; he refused to talk until I sent a healer to tend to his boy."

"Ouch, so what did you do?"

I had Mush fetch a healer and bring the boys to me in the interrogation room upstairs. There wasn't much else I could do you know. And of course the leader acted all noble. Wouldn't let the healer touch him, you'd think he likes to have scars from all his fights. I'll bet my father never had a day like this in his career."

After a few minuets of reflecting on it Jack came to a conclusion. "That's not too bad Wolf, I think you're overreacting. Nobody's going to have a perfect first day. I didn't I nearly got my head taken off."

"There's more." The young noble mumbled. "Just as I turned to leave, that little girl with them started freaking out. She assumed I wasn't going to interrogate her because she's a girl. Suddenly my sword is pulled from its scabbard and drops to the ground."

"How?"

"She did it; I don't know how exactly seeing as she was still in the cell. I didn't sense magical abilities from any of them. On top of that they didn't cooperate whatsoever. All we know is that the leader's name is Spot, which we learned from a prisoner, they are members of the Rogue Guild, and the girl is a Cascadian."

"That's not so bad." Jack attempted to comfort his friend.

"Are you kidding? I couldn't have been worse if I were still a page!" 

"Want me to talk to them for you? Perhaps they might listen to the Prince."

"Ha! I told you these people aren't intimidated by anything, much less a prince. I tried to talk deal with the girl but she wouldn't accept. It's like they have a death wish or something!" 

Unbeknownst to the boys, King Adonis had overheard their entire conversation from the hall. He had recently learned of mutinous plans for the kingdom of Tralee. He needed this matter to be investigated immediately, but the use of his own guards would only worsen the situation. The information had gathered from his son's conversation with Wolfgang gave him an idea. Turning, the king headed back to his study.

-

Meanwhile in the dungeon, the thieves had begun planning their escape. Gathering all the water they had been given Spot set it in front of Mouse. "Ok do your thing. Let's bust outta here already."

Closing her eyes, Mouse concentrated her energy deeply as the shark's tooth about her neck began to shimmer with a soft purple light. Her power was always useful. Even the most horrible captors gave prisoners water. She barely needed what they did have for a task so simple. A small column of swirling water formed beneath her hands as she commanded it to move stealthily beneath the sleeping guard's belt. Spot and Race knew to keep quiet. If she lost her concentration for even a moment the entire attempt would be in vain. The key to the cell was soon sucked into the cyclone and carried back to the anxious thieves. The trick had never been useful in Cascade, everyone could do it. In Tralee, however, this unique talent had gotten them out of more than one tight mess.

"That's it?" Race hissed. 

"I'd like to see you do better." She huffed.

"Couldn't you at least have busted the wall out or destroyed the door or something?"

"Well unless Blink suddenly appears out of mid air to help me I don't think so, this isn't exactly a lot of water to work with you know."

"Enough!" Spot snapped, "This will work just fine. Let's go, now!" The two followed him out of the cell carefully locking the guards in, leaving the keys just out of reach.

"Uh, Spot?"

"Race would you keep you mouth shut before you get us caught, _again_."

"Sorry, but this is important! How are we gonna get out of here if they took all of our weapons?" Racetrack asked a bit concerned as the trio reached the top of the stairs.

"Then we impro…" Spot trailed off as the door swung open and he found a sword directed toward his throat.

-

-

See, I told you the next update would be up rather quickly. Just to explain. The prologues were set about four or five years pervious to this chapter. That is why they are referred to as children. The prologues sort of set the norm for their operations over the years. As for the rest of the characters, they will be appearing in the next few chapters.

Ah, yes, and if you see any names in here that don't match the newsie ones just kick Hotshot for being lazy in her translations as we are posting this on as well. Also, do a favor and mention it in a review so we can fix it.

Forever,

Exempt From Sanity

12/27/04


	4. Jack: You realize I could kill you

Justify The Thrill: A Rock and A Hard Place

Chapter 2

Exempt From Sanity

"It looks like we've been caught again." Mouse sighed. One would expect the scene did not faze her at all if they did not know her well.

"Now whose fault would that be? Oh yeah, Spot's." Race, happy to not be the blamed party for once had no problem seizing the opportunity to mock their leader. "I told you we needed weapons."

"Shut up!" Spot hissed. Whether he said it out of annoyance or worry for his own safety would be undeterminable by the boy holding the sword. Mouse and Race knew it to be of annoyance.

A particularly well dressed noble stood before Spot, a full sword the being the only thing separating the two. It was definitely an admirable sword, adorned with crystals of all shapes and colors. The more important fact is where it was pointed, directly under Spot's Adam's apple. The door behind his attacker opened to reveal the noble who had questioned them earlier. The page form earlier and another boy stood behind him.

Spot cocked his head back in a defiant manner, chin up and eyes hard. Swallowing calmly he let his gaze meet that of the boy whose sword left him vulnerable. The boy, who appeared to be the same age as Wolfgang, who stood behind him, was, garbed in blue and red the colors of royalty.

"You will bow before his highness," Wolfgang snapped. Even they wouldn't be stupid enough to refuse this order, they could be charged with treason.

Race and Mouse glanced quickly toward Spot for direction before shifting their indifferent stares on the Prince. The two remained standing after seeing their leader continue to hold his position. Actions, that seemed to infuriate the noble all the more, much to the thieves' delight.

"Mush, David, bind the prisoners hands and kindly escort them back to their cells, it seems they've lost their way" the prince said, "Wolfgang watch this one." As Wolfgang's sword replaced his at Spot's neck Jack moved and unlocked the door to the hall, throwing it open with a terrible bang that awoke all its inhabitants.

"This is what you call watching the prisoners." he bellowed, "I don't know what my father is paying the lot of you for when even these petty street thugs could guard someone better than you." The captives, many of whom had watched the entire escape were standing at their cell doors, wide grins on their faces and silent laughs escaping them. Jack continued, "I want all of you out of here, now!" The venom in his voice was unmistakable. Every guard moved hastily toward the exit. Jack grabbed the tunic of the last man that passed him, "Send down new guards and two extra men."

"Yes, Highness." The man stuttered and quickly fled. He had nothing to fear from the sixteen-year-old in theory, but Prince Jack had a way of persuading his father to see things in a certain light.

Striding quickly down the hall to where the two thieves were being returned to their cell Jack began rambling off more commands. "The girl is Cascadian, her hands will remain bound and she is not to have any water. Make sure the boy drinks all water given to him and the men in the cells around them as well. Tell the guards to do so as well. If they attempt to give the girl so much as a drop of water, kill her." David was the one taking orders but the guards would know where to draw the line. They would not kill a girl without due reason. Granted, they would make sure to follow all other rules, but death was a stretch.

Returning to the entrance Jack found Spot and Wolfgang as he'd left them. "Go help Mush watch the prisoners. Tell David I want him outside the interrogation room." He did not bother to remove his sword form the scabbard.

Wolfgang managed a quick bow, "Right away, Highness."

"I believe you know where it is," he spoke sternly to Spot once Wolfgang had gone. He took his sword and motioned for Spot to get moving.

That is how they came to sit in the interrogation room several minutes later. Spot sat with the same posture as before, making himself as comfortable as possible with Jack standing opposite him. The Prince was fully clad in fine silk robes. He wore a striking white shirt under a bright red tunic, which were accompanied by a pair of close-fitting, royal blue leggings. The scabbard clipped to the matching blue belt held a sword only the most powerful beings could wield. Black leather boots completed his ensemble.

Spot couldn't see how this boy could have possibly dressed in anything but optimal attire his entire life. A hole or stain on a single stocking were surely reason enough to replace an entire wardrobe. This pampered prince got everything he ever wanted at the expense of the poor who were left to deal with the economical problems of Tralee on their own. These were problems Spot and those he knew had to face daily. A spoiled prince and nothing more was what he had been and would remain for the rest of his life. Tralee's problems would continue once Jack was crowned. Spot felt it was his responsibility as an underprivileged member of society to induce the same disrespect to the prince as the prince gave his own subjects.

"Have you not even the proper respect to bow to your prince?" Jack demanded bringing Spot out of his assessments.

This was just the opportunity Spot was looking for. He sat forward, back straight, elbows resting on the table, and eyes narrowed. "What makes you so great that I should feel compelled to show any respect for, much less bow to you? What have you ever done to improve the quality of life in this country?"

"If I'm not mistaken you are the one who's on trial here. I ask the questions!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Spot scoffed while returning to his former pose, legs spread out in a relaxed position and shoulders loose. This prince was only afraid because he was right. "You disgust me, walking about self-glorified as though the rest of the world owes you their lives simply because you're prince. You know not of, nor care for your countrymen in the slightest. If you did you would make an effort to help them."

"Why you insolent little scoundrel! I improve my country by removing vermin like you and your friends from the streets."

"That's what you think. You may have riches and power but you will never have the respect of the people and without that you're nothing." If only this spoiled prince knew which of them his people would call vermin.

"Enough! I will not be lectured by the likes of you! I suggest, thief, that you reconsider what you have said before your allegiances are questioned."

Treason. There, it was on the table. This wasn't just about stealing and mouthing off to authority anymore. One false word and Spot would be suffering a very painful and public death. Spot ground his teeth for a moment, searching for the right words.

"I pledge my allegiance to no one." The hatred that seethed from Spot's glare would have been enough to scare most men, but he'd slipped up in his wording and Jack caught it.

"Not even your friends, eh? If I had them tortured to death it wouldn't affect you? I'd just be removing a great burden for you, huh?" Yes, two could play this game.

Spot turned away, suddenly becoming silent. He had not expected that retort. Of course he pledged allegiance to his friends. They, if no one else, received his loyalty. But he could not retract his statement, not now.

"I'm not in the mood to play games, Spot is it?" The prince continued, "I've heard of you and your guild before, I know there are more of you than we have imprisoned here. You may have your own little crew, but I have mine as well. We are well trained in fighting and better equipped than your men could ever be. You will answer the questions I have for you tonight or I will kill you."

"Then kill me." Spot leaned forward again, almost too close to Jack. Just as Spot had not pledged his allegiance to anyone in a long time his life was obviously not bound to any importance either.

Jack whipped out his sword and held the point to Spot's throat again. "Not just you, I'd catch all your little friends and kill them as well. This city needs someone to rid it of its scum. Wouldn't you agree?"

Careful words, Spot reminded himself.

"Then you'd be killing the wrong people." What did it matter; the argument over allegiance was treason enough.

Jack pressed his blade to the boy's throat harder, hard enough to puncture the skin and draw blood. "You really do have a death wish don't you?"

"Naw, I just believe if you say you're going to do something you've gotta follow through." Spot replied calmly.

"You realize I could kill you right now."

Spots eyes took on a look of defiance and daringness, "Then do it." He sat deathly still.

Jack was thus tempted to jam his sword through the young thief's throat right then and there, despite the rules regarding prisoners. Perhaps the only thing that stopped him was the sudden knock at the door. He stepped back from the table half in surprise and sheathed his sword. Throwing Spot a murderous glare, Jack turned toward the door.

"Who is it David?" He called through the door.

"Rotan," the boy responded, "He brings a message from your father."

Jack retreated to the door and stepped outside. Spot strained to hear their conversation unable to leave his chair.

Instead of Jack reentering the room alone, two boys accompanied him. Among them were Jack's curly-haired friend and a reasonably tall boy with pitch-black hair. Both of the newcomers looked Spot over for a moment, apparently sharing some kind of vital knowledge concerning him. Be the scowl on Jack's face this information was going to keep him alive and safe, though most definitely imprisoned, a while longer.

"You're lucky, very lucky." Jack told him. The prince then turned to the two others, "Put him in an empty cell across form his men. I want extra guards on them all night, and make sure they're alert. Replace them every three hours"

"Jack," the boy called Rotan began, "That cell is full."

"Then I suggest you go and empty it." There was open contempt in Jack's voice.

With quick bows both of the men were gone. Jack tied Spot's hands behind his back and walked him down the hall. The bonds were cut once he was in the empty cell. It was then that Jack spoke to him again, "We'll talk again tomorrow, and every day after that until you give me names."

"I'll be gone by then."

Jack shook his head, "Don't count on it."

Spot stared after the young prince as he walked down the hall flanked by his friends. His throat was still in pain, there was no denying that, but he refused to reach up and touch it. He had far greater problems to deal with. If Spot couldn't think of a way to get them all out soon, they might not live much longer. A door slammed in the distance and one by one, guards began to put out their torches.

1

Jack entered his father's library, where his friends were all gathered. They were of a close-knit group of pages, squires, and noble's children.

"My father wanted me?"

Wolfgang nodded from his seat, "In the study."

Jack entered his father's study with David close on his heels. He fell into a deep bow before his father's desk, which was as usual covered with scrolls.

The room was plain in comparison to many of the palace offices. The walls were a web of white and cream and the floor decorated with a simple but elegant carpet. There were shelves of books and scrolls, a large, practical desk and three chairs. An ancient sofa lined one wall. Nothing was made comfortable, but rather kept practical. King Adonis spent many hours in his office and over the year had become accustomed to the placement and simplicity of his own system. Most clerks, on the other hand, could find noting amid the piles of parchment and records.

"Stand up Jack," King Adonis said clearly. He was standing by a large window, staring out into the night sky. King Adonis was the kind of man everyone in the kingdom admired. His brown hair matched Jack's perfectly however he preferred it long, longer than Jack's or his friends. His face was kind and his voice often gentle. His knowledge surpassed his son's due only to the numerous years he had spent ruling and learning. Contrary to the thieves belief in Jack the king was trying to improve the quality of life in his country.

His long silk robes consisted of blue breaches, black leather boots, and a fine white shirt, adorned with a red sash signifying his royalty. This was worn beneath a great, white robe, a long white cloth came down from the collar of the robe, wrapping around the shoulders hiding the king's chest. From beneath that cloth the long sleeves extended revealing gloved hands. The shoulders were decorated with gold pads another symbol of royalty. Finally the attire was completed with a blue cape featuring a red crest of Tralee.

The cape hid his right side, attached to the front of the robe with a gold button, which revealed a small portion of the cape's red underside, and sewn to the backside just under the collar. A blue strap, hidden by cloth and cape held the King's mighty sword within a beautifully ornamented scabbard.

"I didn't raise you to act like a servant so do not bow. Take a seat, we need to talk," the king went on. He turned to David, "It is late David. This is between Jack and myself so you may retire for the evening." It always surprised Jack that his father could remember the names of any of his friends when he needed to know the names of every man who attended his court as well.

"Thank you Sire," David bowed and turned to leave. Just as his hand touched the doorknob the king spoke again.

"Oh, and David…"

"Yes, Sire?" David was nervous as the king barely ever spoke personally to him.

"Tell the boys listening on the other side of the door to do the same."

As the door closed behind David Jack turned to look at his father. "What was so important about this thief, Father? He and his friends have been stealing from the palace for years. Don't they deserve to be punished?"

The king nodded, "Yes, they do deserve punishment, Jack, but now is not the time. You see son there are things going on around here that I have not brought to your attention as of yet. One of which will greatly affect your life, as well as those of your friends if left unattended."

Jack was outraged. Was his father implying that these mere thieves could handle something Jack and his classmates could not? "I know you don't tell me everything Father, but what is so important about this thief? He's so rebellious and-"

"I am well aware that he may be a headstrong young man, who was dealt a poor life, but he and his friends do have qualities that will prove to be in the best interest for us." The king nodded to his son, "We may need their unique skills to stop what is happening."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the thought. What could ever be so vital to their country that his father would need the help of common thieves? Whatever it was it had to bad. He swallowed hard and returned his gaze to his father's desk, "What's going on Dad?"

"It's your uncle, Jack," the king began, "The Duke Esmond is planning something. I don't know what. My spies reported that he was planning some kind of attack or rebellion, and there was talk of him having alliances with several other foreign countries."

"What does that have to do with the thieves?" Jack asked.

"Don't interrupt me," the king insisted, "My spies returned home because they believed it would be good to be able to give me all the facts which they could not disclose in a letter. The only problem is now I cannot send them back to Odessa because it will look suspicious, but I do need more information gathered."

"Wait, so you're telling me that uncle Esmond is planning an attack on the throne?"

"Yes, that is what my spies tell me."

"And you want to send that group of mangy thieves in to spy for you?"

The king sank into his chair, suddenly looking his age and very tired in addition, "I should have waited until tomorrow to talk about this. Go to bed Jack, we'll finish this in the morning."

"But-"

"Bed. Now." The king ordered. His son was just barely sixteen, and still needed to receive orders. "Goodnight Jack."

Jack nodded and rose to leave. As he opened the door several of his friends fell through the doorway as they had been leaning on the door to listen. Obviously they had expected him to fight the order further. He rolled his eyes and stepped over them.

The king just laughed, "Good evening boys."

"Hey!" one of the new female pages protested from her position on the floor.

"And girls. Now, like I said, off to bed, _all of you_."

1

"You were right, they do have a death wish. They have no respect for authority, and by Artol they're so infuriating!" Jack exclaimed entering his bedroom where his friends were gathered.

"So why are they so damned important?" Wolfgang answered.

The four of them went silent as though pondering the question. Truth be told, none could think of a good reason as to why the members of the Rogue Guild, who robbed palaces everywhere, could be useful. The king could have sent anyone to spy for him, so why choose prisoners? Especially those with the highest price on their heads?

"I just don't get it. It doesn't make any sense." Jack resumed speaking the words on his friend's minds. There were several murmurs of agreement amongst them before David spoke up.

His face had been set in deep thought as he began. "You're right, it doesn't make any sense and there's a reason for that." He concluded catching the groups' attention.

"Well?" Dutchy provoked "What is it?"

"We're agreed Jack that your father could very well have sent anyone to spy for him, correct?"

Jack nodded in concurrence. What was David getting at?

"And the Rogue Guild is a group of untrustworthy criminals who take pleasure in stealing from the King. Add that to the fact that we don't have a whole lot of information about them."

Again Jack nodded. Why was David going over what they already knew, and going in circles at that?

"So our question is, why choose them? And the only rational answer I can think of is that your father hasn't told us, well you really, everything."

Once again the room fell quiet as the teens went over the situation in their minds all coming to the same deduction.

"Yeah that sounds about right." Dutchy concluded breaking the silence.

"I know" Jack replied. "It's just disturbing, that's all. I mean he's literately going to put our lives and the safety of this kingdom into the hands of a gang of street rats; especially ones that already loathe a few of us. I don't like it, I don't like it one bit"

"We know highness, we know." Wolfgang commented solemnly while patting Jack's shoulder in support. After a long discussion the group headed to bed leaving Jack to his thoughts.

The young prince paced his room in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity, often stopping to glance out the balcony. His life was quickly losing any importance. Since he had started his knightly training things had been so easy. Now head suddenly had several new ideas launched at him at once. An unspeakably irritating gang of thieves were camping out in the dungeon. One of them would even openly insult him. And now, now his father had brought up a possible death threat.

He glanced out over into the stars once more. If that scoundrel he'd questioned was put in charge of some kind of mission the entire kingdom was doomed. He readily collapsed into his large, soft bed, exhausted. He mumbled to himself until he fell asleep.

1

Mouse lay curled up on one of the benches that hung from the wall of the cell. Race had occupied the other half only moments before. She glanced around and found him pacing the bars near the hall. He looked back and caught her gaze.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Thirsty," she mumbled. As a Cascadian she was more prone to dehydration than the rest of them, and needed water more frequently.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, "I'm trying to get some water from our neighbor. He said he'd give me some next time the guards changed. Now if I could just get Spot's attention we could think of a way out of here." He waved frantically in Spot's direction in the dim light of the dungeon.

Spot looked directly at him for a few minutes. Dried blood was caked around a cut on his throat and his appearance was more weary than usual. To Racetrack it looked as though their leader was looking straight through him, not really seeing him at all. He needed to get them out of there or they would all be dead. "Just go to sleep Race." He finally said wearily, "I'll have something by morning."

1

A/N: Yes, we're getting lazy, but another chapter should be up around this time next week when Hotshot gets back from vacation. I've been looking over old chapters and about six and a half are revised and need to be edited by SaL (who is lazy!)

I'm kidding Sarah.

Thank you guys for the reviews. Alias is on in a few minutes so I do not have time for shout-outs. Next time I'll try. Leave me good news for when I get back. Thanks, RR.

Forever,

Exempt From Sanity


	5. Race: You perverse cowards

Justify the Thrill  
Chapter 3  
Exempt from Sanity

A golden light seemed to seep through Jack's eyelids. At first it was merely a spec in the distance. He fought to cover it with darkness, praying for more sleep. The light, however, was persistent. It grew from a spec and rapidly spread to envelope everything in sight. The light was bright enough to hurt his eyes; it was an annoying and dreadful dream. He soon realized what was going on.

Jack threw an arm into the air and mumbled as he rolled over. "Dutchy let me sleep." He buried his head beneath the covers to escape from his friend's unique technique of waking people up.

"You know very well that the blanket isn't going to help you in the least," Aurelie, the lady knight Dutchy served under, snickered, "Dutchy can do that stupid light thing right through it."

Dutchy grinned at her and placed his hand over the blanket above Jack's head. He closed his eyes and began to concentrate again.

Jack sat up suddenly and swung at his friend, "Dutchy, stop it. What's wrong with you? Can't you see that I want to sleep."

Dutchy grinned meagerly, "Your dad woke me up by doing that an hour ago, except he was badgering me with a message. He wants all of us up in the study in an hour. Get up, get dressed and help us wake the others."

"What time is it?"

"About an hour past dawn," Aurelie said from the window. She walked back to his bed and dragged Dutchy toward the door, "We'll go get David and be back as soon as he's up. If you're not dressed I'm sure Dutchy would be happy to get you up again."

"Remind me Dutch. Who's the man and who's the woman?" Jack asked, watching amused as the small woman dragged Dutchy from the room.

Dutchy was only able to make a rude gesture with his hand before the door slammed shut behind him.

Jack lat out a laugh and begrudgingly pulled himself out of his large, comfortable bed. He yawned and stumbled over to his dresser to dig out something to wear. He had a feeling that Dutchy knew something more was neglecting to tell him the reason behind everyone being woken up early.

Spot on the other hand awoke to find sunlight streaming into his eyes through the tiny sliver of a window. He was still in a sitting position against the wall, and he had no more of an idea about how they were going to escape. He let his eyes slide closed again after noticing both of his friends still asleep in the cell across from his.

The next time he woke was a little less pleasant. His cramped body felt as though he'd been through hell and back. Suddenly a banging had started from the door that they'd tried to escape through the past night. It grew steadily louder and he realized what it was. A guard was coming down the hall with a small cup of water, scraping it loudly against the bars that lined the wall. The guard stopped in front of his cell.

"Sleep well, Conlon?" The man growled.

Spot opened his mouth to reply but all that came out was a dry cough. He cleared his throat again and spoke. "Unless you want something leave me the hell alone."

The guard thrust the cup of water, now only half full, through the bars. "Drink up." He watched Spot as he drank slowly and allowed a carefully thought out phrase to slip out, "The king wants to see you."

Spot froze looking into the guard's eyes, "What?"

"He wants you brought up to his office."

"Why?" Suspicion rose behind Spot's eyes.

"Oh, you know, just to chat a little." A tall and lanky blonde boy appeared suddenly behind the guard. Spot turned his cold gaze on the boy, looking him over, smirking a bit as though amused. He was dressed like any noble would be, though more plainly than the prince. He wore a spotless white shirt under a worn but clean yellow tunic. Brown leggings and boots only a shade darker completed his outfit. Unlike the prince he did not wear a sword. There were several small bags hanging from his belt and a single dagger off to one side.

"You another one of his majesties nobles that think they're knights?" Spot asked with bitter distaste.

"I am a squire, thank you very much, more than halfway through my knightly training" he said. He noticed Spot's staring at his lack of accessories, "But I'm also a healer. Besides a dagger suits me just fine." Without any warning his hand darted through the bars to touch Spot's neck. Spot swiped but the boy just as quickly pulled his hand away. Spot's cut was gone.

The squire started past the guard, "Now if you don't mind the king wants you up in his office in the next few minutes."

"What about my friends?"

"I promise they won't be executed while you're away," he tried to lighten the mood with a bit of humor; "I'm Dutchy by the way."

The guard bound Spot's hands again and the three of them set off. Spot tried to cover a snort with a cough when Dutchy tripped halfway up the stairs. How on earth had this poor kid gotten to be a squire? Even more, how was he to become a knight? He listened as the boy rambled on about all of his friends, supposedly the prince's friends as well.

His eyes went wide as they reached the upper levels of the palace. This was the area he and his friends had never stolen from. There were too many guards and too much risk. Now that he saw the treasures lining the walls he decided that it was worth the risk. The items he could lay eyes on in one stretch of hallway were easily worth more than all they had stolen in the past three years.

"Well, the king wants to talk to you alone but I'll see you later." Dutchy said. He bounced off toward a girl waiting on the other side of the room.

The guard cut Spot's bonds and let him into the room. The king's office was magnificent. He looked around in awe and noticed the king standing by an open window. The man was dressed simply like Dutchy had been in a simple red tunic and blue leggings. Those colors and a crest were the only markings that led Spot to know he was royalty.

The king turned to him and smiled warmly, "Ah, Master Conlon, good morning."

"Your Highness," Spot said, without bowing. He took a seat as the king motioned for him to do so.

The king sat in his own chair and looked Spot over. The poor boy certainly looked weary and it seemed as though he had the weight of the word on his shoulders. Though, that did not change that fact that they needed to talk.

"Spot is it?"

"Yes"

"Well Spot, it seems that you've been very busy around my palace for the past," he paused, "Five years?"

"Yes"

"And it was only under unusual circumstances that you were caught."

"Yes, Race tripped running up the stairs. Your guards were there before we could get him out." Spot had never lied about his work before, despite the audience. Not that he'd ever been caught and confessed to an authority figure before, however.

"If I'm not mistaken that would mean you have been stealing here since you were twelve."

Spot looked up in wonder, how could the king possibly know his age? He'd made sure all records regarding his life had been disposed of.

"Last night several of my advisors, as well as myself, stayed around here until all hours of the night doing research of your two friends, but mostly and more importantly on yourself. I must admit, you're a difficult man to get information on but luckily for me the palace has its own private set of records. You see Spot I like to know who I'm dealing with, both my enemies and my friends. Now you may think I hold you as an enemy Spot, but I'm willing to brush aside the fact that you have been stealing if you'd be willing to compromise with me. Do you understand?"

"Yes"

"I'm going to explain this simply Spot as soon as-"

There was a brief knock at the door and Jack entered. He glared at Spot and received a look from his father. He took a seat and spoke, "I heard you saying you were going to explain, continue, please."

"Neither of you are to interrupt me, nor do I want to hear any complaints." With that King Adonis launched into an explanation.

"My men returned from the Duke Esmond's palace last month with news that he was plotting an attack on my rule. As much as some around here would like to see me fall it would mean devastation for everyone. Esmond cares nothing for anyone but his men, lowly peasants and thieves would be hung with no trial. Now I can't send my own men back because Esmond would suspect them, but I do need information on when and where the attack will be.

"Jack used to visit Odessa when he was a boy and reminded me that many traders and travelers pass through. Jack also visits there frequently. It has been customary for the young squires to carry out part of their knightly challenges there as Odessa has more difficult surrounding territories. Now Spot, I know you have at least two more men that help you and I believe that would make a good sized party."

"Sir?"

"I want you and your men to travel to Odessa and find out whatever you can. If you can get in here for five years without being caught than I believe you can spend a month or two finding out about Esmond's plans. I will drop all charges if you are able to go Spot. I won't make you and your friends give anything back, I won't deal out any punishment, and I will not keep your names. You will be free to leave or do what you wish once you report back to me.

"I am going to pay for lodging along the way, provide horses and weapons and food. Your thieves, Spot, I don't know who all of them are but I know some of them have unique gifts and your team would be perfect for this mission. Esmond would never suspect you."

As the king came to an end there was a pause as the room fell silent. Jack was staring awe struck at his father while the king had his eyes fixed on Spot, who remained expressionless whilst deep in thought. "So what say you Spot? I wave the criminal records of yourself; your companions and you spy for me. A reasonable request I believe."

"I will have to confer with my friends, this will significantly affect them as well." Spot sighed for he knew they wouldn't like it. No, that was an understatement, his friends would detest this with a passion; but Spot had to consider all of their options, even if it meant swallowing his pride just this once. The king merely nodded understanding what the young man before him was experiencing, for the king had to make such drastic decisions daily.

"Jack have the guards bring his friends up, brief you friends and assemble them here as well. This will concern all of you." The prince nodded before leaving all the while wondering what more his father could possibly have to tell him.

As the guard neared the prisoner's cell he heard a commotion and took off toward it in a sprint. Upon approaching he notice the boy called Race pounding on the steel bars yelling at the guard on post. "Where's Spot! Where is he! What have you done to him you perverse cowards!"

"My, my those are big words for such a lowly street thug." The guard chuckled appearing before the cell. "Why I do believe he's angry"

Race's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, "you're damn straight I am! Now where is Spot! Tell me!"

"Easy there boy, he's just having a little one on one with the King."

"Why you sick…huh?" Race blinked staring incredulously at the guard. "The King?"

"Yes boy, you and your companion are about to join him." The guards opened the cell proceeding to the bench where Mouse was resting. In a flash Race lifted a guard's sword positioning himself between his friend and the guards.

"Don't even think about it! You take one more step and you'll be dead before you can blink. Now this is what we're going to do…" He spoke while tying the guards together. "I'm going to let you live and you're going to tell me exactly where this 'one on one' is."

"Why would we tell the likes of you?" The fat one demanded stubbornly.

"Because," Race began jabbing the dull tip of the sword against the guard's belly, "you don't want to die do you? Especially not like this in your own castle's dungeon. You'd be forever remembered as the guards who were caught idling. Now, how embarrassing would that be?"

The guards exchanged a look before glancing at the thief in front of them.

Once he acquired the information he'd requested, Race gagged his captives and turned his sword to Mouse who'd remained in a deep slumber through the commotion. "Mouse," he whispered jabbing his friend, "Mouse…Mouse wake up. Come on Mouse!"

The teen mumbled something derogatory as she tried to move away from the sword, proceeding to roll of the bench landing on the hay-covered floor. "Mouse!" He exclaimed when she showed no signs of awaking any time soon.

"What?" She snapped from her position, "Can't you see I'm in the middle of something here."

"Like what?"

"Like a perfectly good dream which, I might add, you just ruined!"

"Well I'm sorry but I figured escaping was more important than a silly dream."

Sighing the girl opened her eyes glanced at the guards then up at her companion. Race sheathed the sword in his scabbard and helped Mouse to her feet before the two headed out of the dungeon in search of their leader. This time they safely entered the corridor and made their way stealthily toward the King's office pocketing a few items along the way. When the thieves came down a large hallway Race noticed the great oak doors the guards had told him of. He moved quietly toward them, opening the door a crack to check for his friend. Scanning the room he noticed the King, the prince, Wolfgang and squire as well as five others assembled about the room. When he saw the familiar black attire of Spot's, Race sighed deeply and reached out to push the door open. Suddenly he let out a yelp as two knights seized him from behind. Struggling ferociously as the knights began to drag him away he managed to kick the doors open. The occupants stared curiously at the scene unfolding before them.

"Get your grimy hands off of me you dumb oafs!" Race had been screaming until he noticed the others. Grinning sheepishly he waved. "Um, hi?"

Sighing Mouse emerged from the shadows and jumped the knights. In a flash she jabbed her thumb into the hallow part of their throats effectively knocking them out cold. "Jeez, you want something done you just gotta do it yourself." Mouse rasped eyeing a large crystal pitcher upon the king's desk.

Noticing this, the king motioned toward the pitcher, "Water?" he offered.

"Don't mind if I do, thanks." She responded reaching for the pitcher and began guzzling the water.

Meanwhile Race and Spot had moved to a secluded portion of the room leaving the others watching Mouse in awe as they began speaking in hushed tones. "What's going on Spot? What was _the King_ talking to you about?"

"He's talking proposition. Wants us to spy on his brother for him and all charges against us are dropped."

Race chuckled, "So what'd he do when you told him off?"

"I didn't" Spot stated frankly avoiding eye contact with Race.

"You what!" Race exclaimed drawing all attention to him. Mouse who had started on her second pitcher shot the two a questioning look. "It appears our fearless leader told the king that **_we_** would spy for him!" He explained as Mouse spat water out in shock.

"Spot how could you! We trusted you and this is how you repay us! By stabbing us in the back!" She growled advancing toward her leader alongside Race. "Why I otta…" She snarled as the nearest chair went flying through the air forcing its target, Spot, to jump out of the way.

"Mouse! Get a hold of yourself! I never agreed to anything just let me explain! Please?" Spot pleaded holding his hands up in a surrender warily eying the second chair hovering above them.

The girl seemed to consider this. Finally, deciding that Spot wouldn't do anything stupid, she let go of her anger as well as the chair, which dropped with a thud between the two. "Ok, I'm listening."

Slinging an arm across the girls shoulders Spot began whispering his plan waving his free arm about for emphasis. "Picture this: me, you, Race, the entire gang under aliases of the king's consent allowing us access to anywhere we want to go. Heck we'd be stationed inside the castle. Think about it Mouse, we'd be clearing our records and picking up whatever treasures we please. This is the kind of opportunity thieves only dream about, but we have a chance to make it a reality."

"Fine, I'm in but you owe us Conlon." Mouse agreed reluctantly.

"Big time" Race added.

The three turned their attention back to the crowd behind them and Spot grinned cheekily at Jack. "Oh trust me it'll be worth it."

"Father, how do you know they just won't up and leave?" Jack questioned, wondering what Spot had said to change his friend's minds so quickly.

"That," the king continued, "Is why you and your friends will be going with them." He watched as both groups gaped at him. "I'm sorry Spot but you must understand I can not fully trust you. I believe my son and his friends are enough to keep you from bolting. I will also be sending a teacher, one of common blood, with you. It does need to look a bit like a group of students. And Jack, I know you think you are capable of handling this yourself, but Spot's men have more experience outside the kingdom than you do. Now, Master Conlon, where shall I send my guards to collect your friends?"

Spot shook his head, "Sire, I am not willing to do anything without all of my friends' approvals. I myself am a little reproachful about this whole situation. There are a few things I must ask though."

"Just a moment with my pal Spot here you highness. There's something we need to discuss." Race inquired pulling Spot toward the open window. "Are you crazy? How do you know this isn't just a trap to capture the rest of us huh? What makes you so sure he's telling the truth about this brother of his?"

"I just know Race. I wouldn't do anything stupid to put us all in danger; I'm not an idiot! Trust me ok?"

"Whatever Conlon, you'd better be right about this or you're a dead man."

"Well if I am wrong, you'd be dead too now wouldn't you?" Spot warned staring Race down as he turned back to the King one last time to work out the details.

"Sorry about that sir, now about those questions I have…"

"Go ahead." The king answered.

"Will we be paid after?"

"You will be compensated for your efforts."

"If we stay in this country after it's over we won't be watched?"

"Not unless you start stealing again."

Spot nodded, "What about our personal items my cane, Mouse's daggers, Race's sword?"

"I will see them returned to you," the king said, "We can work out the rest of the details later; now my only concern is your friends."

"The only problem is that if they see guards they'll run. Trust me they know this place better than any guard. If I may sir, I could go and get them, my friends and me. They would come if we explained it. We'd even bring Jackie-boy here and his friends with us."

"Very well," The king nodded, "You will set out this afternoon. Dismissed"

"Oh, your majesty?" Spot started.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to question your sons training but my friend Mouse is Cascadian and we used her powers to try to escape last night, which I'm sure you heard about. Your son ordered her hands to be bound, which I can understand, but he also ordered her to not be given any water. Sire, Cascadian's are easily dehydrated as I'm sure you noticed, if you could just dismiss that order, it'd be appreciated."

"Of course," He yelled for a guard from the hall. The man came to meet them. "You'll have to go down to your cell for now. I'll send Jack down for you this afternoon."

Spot nodded as his hands were bound once more. Mouse, who was beside him, began scowling. Her hands were being tightly bound behind her back and she was glaring daggers in Spot's direction "So you can understand them leaving my hands bound huh? You so owe me!"

"Ah it's not that bad. I think you're overreacting."

"Sure, you only say that because you're not gonna be bound when you're in the cell. Back me up here Race."

However she received no response. "Come on Race back me up." She spoke louder lifting her eyes to scan the room for him. "Race?" Mouse meagerly questioned when he wasn't found. "Where'd he go?"

"The window" Spot hissed. He'd known Risto far too long to miss the boy's seizure of opportunity. "He escaped out the window! The idiot!"

"You're not planning anything brash I hope."

Spot took a seat in one of the plush chairs again with his elbow on his desk and hand supporting his forehead. He began calmly speaking though he physically shook from anger, "I'm gonna kill him, I swear I'm gonna kill him!"

"Spot!" Mouse protested.

"He got us into this mess in the first place! He's just asking for it now!"

Rolling her eyes Mouse followed the new guard out stepping over the unconscious one's on her way. It was going to be a long day.

1

A/N: Ok, so not much to say. For anyone who read the original version i know this seems to be axactly the same but a bit of editing has begun. Up through chapter 8 is revised and being edited (and chapter 8 is very different from the original version). Hopefully the rest will be up soon so we can add some new stuff. Enjoy, R&R.

Exempt From Sanity


	6. Mouse: You Dug Your Grave Conlon, Now Li...

Justify the Thrill

Chapter 4

Exempt From Sanity

Spot was anxious; Race was an idiot. This much was obvious from the goings on in the small dungeon cell. Spot was pacing back and forth between the two walls, practically making a permanent track on the dirt floor. A scowl covered his face and his glazed eyes were focused on whatever was directly in front of him. He mumbled under his breath to an invisible source. "Where does he come up with these stupid ideas… what's wrong with him, we were going to get out of here… he's going to ruin everything… I swear I'll kill him."

"Spot, shut up and sit down. You're making me dizzy." Mouse was sitting on one of the bunks against the far wall. A half empty pitcher of water and a glass sat on the table next to her. She idly created whirlpools that made the pitcher shake.

Spot put his hand over the top of the pitcher forcing it to remain still. "No," he insisted, "I swear I'm going to kill him."

Mouse rolled her eyes, "Just like last time? Or how about the thousand times before that? You could not hurt that boy, stupid as he may be at times, if you really wanted to."

Spot sat indignantly in the seat next to her, "I mean it this time."

"Uh huh." She began to concentrate on the water again until he complained. "Sorry, so anyway, this _is_ something that we can do right? I'd hate for you to drag us along for something like this and have it be impossible."

"It'll be easy, easier than what we've been doing here. Think about it we'll have maps and the nobles to cover for us. They're sending us with a common-born teacher of the prince's, and no guards. We could do it so much easier if they didn't have to come but-"

"Well we do, so stop complaining. You think I'm happy about my father's decision." Jack stood outside the cell, flocked by his entourage. "I honestly don't think we need you to do this but I respect my father's wishes."

Spot and Mouse shared a look and Spot smirked. He stood and walked up to the door. "That's nice Jack, really it is. Let's just get this over with so we can split. Promise, when we get back you'll never have to see my face again."

Jack stepped aside and David opened the door to the cell. He handed Mouse the knives that had lined the sued strap around her waist, her boots, and the cuffs of her sleeves until her capture. She looked each over in a quick evaluation to be sure it was not damaged and flipped them into their rightful spots.

Jack held out a dagger to Spot who took it and slid it into his boot, "Where's my cane?"

Jack pulled it out of his belt and looked it over again, "I honestly don't see how this can be used as a weapon. Sure the wood is strong and the gold tip must be painful, but how on earth do you fight with it?"

Spot took the cane and slid it into his belt, "Don't worry about it. I know how to use it and that's all that matters."

They ascended from the dungeon and out of the palace through a side exit. Spot kept a sharp eye on their surroundings. No guards were following the group but he still took it upon himself to watch out for trouble. Though the knights had dressed down a bit they were still noticeable when compared to most commoners. If the wrong people saw them it would mean trouble. The capital was a place many commoners dreamed of, for it was know for its organization, security, justice, and respect. Now they had entered the poorest part of Tralee, filled with trouble and chaos, with people who would sell out their own brother to ensure survival. It was a city full of thieves, most lacking any morals whatsoever.

Spot kept them to the alleys as much as possible, both for the nobles' safety as well as his own. He didn't trust most people and had a reason not to as of late.

The Avignon Tavern was not far from the palace and looked as normal as any other building in city of Tralee. It was known to all thieves for being named after a secret city of thieves. Only the best thieves knew of the city's location as well, and only a few had the courage to go there. Anyone else just saw it as a name, and never suspected that those who lived there were thieves. Well, maybe they had their suspicions.

The nobles had heard talk of the underground city of Avignon and had passed it off as a legend, something the thieves used to strike fear into the hearts and minds of the county folk. Most just laughed it off assuming the tavern to be the so-called great city of thieves. Because the majority of folk had begun to believe in the 'thieves hoax' some of the lesser thieves had begun to believe in it as well. However this only made the city stronger, superior, it gave those who knew of it greater power and freedom like no other.

Most of Spot and Mouse's friends had grown up around the tavern and had heard the stories. Spot himself had been there since he was seven and Mouse and Blink had arrived together when they were about eleven. They'd formed their little band of thieves in their early teens. Some in the Rouge Guild's early years had even been fortunate enough to enter the great city, Spot included.

Spot turned to the nobles when they reached the back door. "There shouldn't really be anyone in there today so we can talk freely. Stay behind me and Mouse when we go in; I have a bone to pick with them before we get into anything else."

He slammed open the doors and marched in as though he owned the place. Several other teens, mostly boys, were lounging around the numerous tables and stools at the bar talking. Their heads snapped up at the sudden intrusion.

"Afternoon fellas," Spot greeted them. His face twisted into a smirk as he walked down to the head of the table, "Good to see you."

A tall boy with dark brown hair and soft gray eyes sitting at the bar stood. Standing against the bar's corner, next to him, was a good-sized throwing spear with a bronze point and steel handles engraved with an unfamiliar crest.

"Uh, Spot we were just uh… planning how we were going to get you and Mouse and Race out of that-"

"Shut up." Spot snapped.

"He got himself out Pie Eater. Don't worry about it." The only girl in the place spoke from a table by the stairs. She was sitting across the table from a taller boy, a deck or cards between them.

"Thanks for your concern Hotshot." Spot yelled across the room at her. The two seemed to be old friends.

"Welcome." She smirked in his direction.

The girl who spoke appeared to be the same age as her companion Mouse, though there was something different about her. Hotshot, as the nobles had discovered she was called, was taller than any of the three captives and dressed in a mixture of boy's and women's clothing. She wore brown leggings much like her leader's, along with a three quarter length, white chemise blouse which she wore un-tucked. The blouse featured a keyhole with drawstring and was slightly ruffled at the sleeves. Over this she sported a forest green jerkin. Her light brown hair was pulled back with a piece of rawhide and draped over one shoulder. The other was occupied by a sack filled with forest green feathered arrows and matching longbow. The daggers hanging from the black sued belt, at the girl's waist emphasized her ruggedness as her cool eyes dared the nobles to mess with her. Her boots were black thigh high suede leather rolled down to her calves. They held two hidden daggers that tied her look together. The party of nobles also took notice of the full length, twill brown cloak with forest green silk lining complete with a half-circle brass cloak pin draped across her chair.

This girl, this 'Hotshot' as she was so lovingly referred, stumped them there was no question that she could hold her own, but even her companion wore a dress even if it wasn't as girlish as Aurelie's. Here was a girl who dressed as a boy but incorporated a bit of feminism. However strange she appeared to them, they didn't dare question her on it.

Her companion on the other hand was tall, lanky and wore a pair of pewter framed glasses. His brown hair spilled into his matching eyes as he leaned over his hand, eying the cards played on the table. He wore dark gray leggings accented by a light gray poet shirt fastened at the waist by a black leather belt with pewter buckle, and matching leather boots. The lace up front and ruffles at the neck and sleeves of the shirt were very understated, yet added just enough to pass as formal wear when meeting with the common class. A dark gray floppy hat lay on the table beside him along with a large silver topped staff finely decorated with rare Celtic markings. His name was Specs.

Spot looked over the ranks and noticed missing faces. "Where is everyone?"

"Itey and Snitch are out, probably picking pockets or getting some food," Specs suggested, placing two cards down on the table and rearranging the one's in his hand. "You know them, even after a bust that's what they do. Blink went out with them. He's probably flirting with the ladies, but what do you expect."

"What about Race?" Mouse asked.

"Race," Pie Eater arched an eyebrow, "He was captured with the two of you. Did you hit your head or something?"

"But he escaped."

"He hasn't been back here yet," Hotshot shrugged, "probably come around tonight though."

Specs glanced behind Spot warily, "Who're your friends?"

"Don't call 'em friends." The leader snapped. "They're more like… business associates." He motioned to the table at which Hotshot and Specs were seated. "Everyone grab a seat."

"Why do I suddenly not like the sound of that?" Specs whined looking back and forth between Spot and his remaining friends, hoping one of them had an answer.

"Pie Eater, go upstairs, this does not concern you. Snitch and Itey should be up as soon as they get back." Spot decided it would be better not to get the younger thieves into the mass he had put his good friends into. Pie Eater, Snitch and Itey were still young and training. They hadn't been involved in the robbing of the palace.

Mouse sighed and took a seat at one end of the table. The nobles had seated themselves on the end nearer the door while the thieves claimed the other; with Spot sitting somewhere in the middle. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door swung ajar reveling three teens.

In bounced Snitch and Itey, their pockets looking considerably heavy. No doubt it had been a good day. Blink walked behind them with a grin on his face. Snitch it seemed was telling Blink about the finer points of how he'd stolen a well-adorned knife off of a man that morning. He stopped dead in his tracks at seeing the table. "Uh… hiya Spot."

Spot sent the three a bored look; "We escaped. Drop the worried look and get upstairs. You two don't need to come back down. Blink, you, take a seat."

The three obeyed, equaling out the two sides. Blink unbeknownst to himself took a seat across from the prince and proceeded to empty his findings of the day upon the table, as the nobles' eyes widened in abhorrence and the remainder of the thieves inspected the loot with keen eyes. There were four nobles, four thieves, and Spot caught in the middle.

The latter cleared his throat. "So, Mouse, you wanna take a swing at explaining all of this?"

"You dug your grave Conlon, now lie in it." She barely looked at him as she spoke from her end of the table, suddenly finding the amethyst tipped hilt of her silver shell guard dagger interesting. Their accomplices looked up from their new treasures as Blink began to re-pocket them instantly sensing the tension between the two ex-captives and the strangers. All eyes were darting intensely at their leader and skeptically toward the outsiders across the table.

"Okay," Spot paused. No matter how he worded everything he could imagine the outcome would be the same. A threat would work best he decided. "First of all, there is no need to get up and run because you're in no danger of being arrested. In fact, it's more likely that I will hurt you in the chance that you run, because all of you need to hear this out. Now, this," he pointed to the boy to his immediate left with absolutely no hint of reverence, "is prince Jack of Tralee."

He noticed that everyone except Mouse stiffened. Specs and Blink even started to stand as if to run, but caught themselves. The nobles also seemed to have expected an attack. Dutchy's fingers lingered on the hilt of his dagger. There was a moment that Spot left silent, and the tension rose to be so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

"And these other men are the sons of the country's greater nobles. Now, can you all accept that and get past the fact that they are sitting here with us." They all nodded, and Spot turned to Jack, "And Jackie-boy, these here are the best thieves in all of Tralee." He turned back to his friends,

"Watch out for that one." He said pointing toward Hotshot. "Specs grew up here as well as me and Race. The last two are Cascadian's, Kid Blink and Mouse. Their specialty is with daggers but there's no one better with a rapier than Mouse and Blink's a master with a trident." He was closer to each thief there than he was to either of his parents and let up only small details of their lives. Much more was left alone, especially a few more important traits.

Blink was the dirty blonde teen with a suede patch over his right eye, clad in kaki colored Sailor Pants that had a drawstring waistband and discrete, deep front pockets. A white three quarter length Ren shirt was worn beneath a dark purple Captain's Coat made of lush cotton corduroy with delicate gold and black trim. He wore it with comfort and authority. His black leather boots hid a set of daggers, much like Mouse's. He also eyed a trident across the room, which was presumably his, as he watched the nobles. It was decorated slightly with several pearls and shells.

"Now that we know everyone let's get started. Okay, now listen carefully to what I have to say because I'm only going to explain this once. It is true that Race, Mouse and I were captured during our last raid. We were interrogated and asked to give up our partners' names in order to have reduced sentences and we didn't, even when his highness here threatened us with death. The king had me brought to his chambers this morning. He has a deal to strike with us. If we accept and carry it out we will be generously compensated and released to do whatever we wish. That means we can all leave Tralee, or start over, with a clean slate. If not we'll be arrested. Now, the king wants to send us on a mission to Odessa…"

Once he was finished with a rather lengthy explanation Spot let them all sit in an uneasy silence. He and Jack were the only ones who knew the entire plan as of yet and it had come as a shock to both the nobles and thieves. He rose and made his way over to the bar. Blue Warren, barkeeper and owner of Avignon Tavern, was standing behind the counter; he'd heard the entire thing.

Blue had owned the tavern for only the past three years. He was only in his early twenties and barely six years Spot's senior. He'd inherited the tavern from his grandfather and in accepting it also accepted allowing Spot and the others live and plot there. He actually rather enjoyed the excitement it brought, though he could not partake in the raids himself, they paid him well to give them a sanctuary. He enjoyed misleading the guards who questioned him.

"You think they'll bite?" he asked. If there was a soul who knew the way the thieves' minds worked it was Blue.

Blue nodded, "You know they'd do anything to help you. It's nearly sickening how close the six of you are. Just give them a few minutes to work the whole thing out in their minds." He placed a tray of water on the counter, "Now bring this over there and get this to work. Make sure you talk to me if you're all going to leave."

"Water," Spot offered setting the tray on the table several seconds later. Blink and Mouse all but lunged for a glass. Being nervous or worried made Cascadian's thirsty, actually a lot of fierce emotions made them thirsty. The others were all slower to take a glass, especially the nobles.

Spot was not at all worried about the nobles. They had no choice in the matter of accompanying Jack. The noble's would be ordered to if not by the king then by their parents, in order to not disgrace their family's names. His friends on the other hand might not accept. He knew some of them had certain qualms about nobles and about doing something for them. He knew also that at least Specs and Race had never even been as far outside of Tralee as Odessa in their entire lives. Leaving their realm of comfort would be difficult for them all. There were dangers in not knowing where one's escapes were.

"Well," he prompted.

"I already told you I'd do it," Mouse said.

"I'll come too then." Blink added automatically. He was almost a brother to Mouse, which meant if one did something there was no doubt the other would too.

"I'm in," Hotshot said, grinning, "Sounds like fun." Leave it to her to think of it that way.

Specs nodded when Spot looked at him, "I guess."

Jack looked almost put out at not being able to arrest anyone, but managed a solemn nod. "They'll all have to come to the palace. We'll give them titles and weapons," He glanced at them in mild distaste, "new clothes."

Though his words were meant to be scathing Jack looked at the thieves in wonder. From everything he'd heard about thieves he'd learned that they used other people and cared for no one but themselves. Spot and his friends were the exact opposite, closer even than Jack and his friends. Now if only that Racetrack boy would come back they could move ahead with things.

At that particular moment the front door to the tavern opened and he marched in humming a happy tune. "Speak of the devil" Jack muttered.

Race stopped dead as he caught sight of the table. A jokester he was, but he knew that he was in for trouble now.

"You are a dead man, Race." Spot spoke as he stood pulling a hidden dagger from his belt.

"Uh… Spot! Fancy meeting you here. Hehe…" He managed to squeak out as he slowly backed away from the advancing Spot.

"You…you imbecile!" Spot yelled. "You 'tripped' you clumsy little shit! You tripped, you got us caught, and you, _you_ are the reason we have to agree to this whole mess!"

Spot hissed, rage erupting through him as he threw his dagger through the air, forcing Race to dive out of its path of destruction. "And how did you redeem yourself while your friends were suffering as a result of your idiotic mistakes? While we were rotting away in a prison cell, while Mouse was dehydrating, because of you! What did you do Race? You left us; you escaped leaving us to pay for your stupidity! And you had the nerve to waltz in here humming like nothing happened!"

By this time Race had fallen to the floor and was crawling backward into the wall. Spot towered over him, dagger raised high above his head ready to kill. "Die you traitorous bastard!" He exclaimed driving the dagger down upon his friend.

"Spot!" Mouse exclaimed breaking the rest of the room's occupants out of their shock. Standing from her position between Blink and Hotshot she ran quickly to stay her leader's weapon. After seeing that it had caused him to pause she swiftly dope slapped him.

"Ow!" Spot exclaimed dropping the dagger to rub the back of his head, "What was that for?"

"You promised you wouldn't do anything brash."

Race took this opportunity to stand and move toward the door. "Well seeing as how I'm not welcome here no more, I'd best be going."

"Not so fast!" Hotshot warned as Specs, Blink and herself surrounded him weapons drawn. "Who ever said you weren't welcome here?"

"But…Spot just…"

"What? That? That was nothing." She shrugged, as though attempts on Race's life were a daily occurrence.

"Nothing! He almost killed me!"

"He was just upset a bit, you know Spot." Specs entered the conversation excusing their leader's behavior. "He just over reacted a little is all."

"Think about it for a minute, Race," Blink interjected, "Has Spot ever gone through with his threats to kill you?"

"Well, no but-"

"Besides," Blink added slinging an arm over his friend's shoulders, "we wouldn't let you get off that easy. If we have to go through with this you're coming too. It's only fair. I mean it is your fault after all."

Race looked around the room making eye contact with each of the thieves in turn. His face was contorted in confusion and he regarded them as though they were crazy. "You honestly think Spot killing me is being let off easy?" The thieves merely shot glances between each other before staring at Race, ignoring his question.

"So you're in?" Spot questioned holding out a hand.

Glancing at it uneasily Race nodded shaking on it. "You ask as if I have a choice" he mumbled.

"Glad to hear it!" Spot smiled, patting him roughly on the back.

A/N: School is out for the summer. We're graduating a week from tonight, and it promises to be a very interesting summer. The next four chapters are edited and written, but I will not be posing them until we get some reviews. And please, something beyond 'I like it write more.'

More up soon.

Exempt From Sanity


	7. Hotshot: I don't know about you, but I ...

Disclaimer: They're not ours. Wolfgang, Aurelie, Hotshot, Mouse, Blue and Hawk are ours, the rest aren't.

Justify the Thrill  
Chapter 5  
Exempt From Sanity

Jack looked pointedly at the thieves for a moment as Spot talked down to Racetrack. It seemed to be banter between friends as they reassessed the death threat. He shook his head in aggravation, "Shall we go then?" He asked, standing, "They're probably waiting for us at the palace."

Spot stepped forward from the group of thieves, "We'll go when we're good and ready. Give us a few minutes." He nodded to the thieves and motioned in the direction of the stairs. They dispersed and headed to their rooms.

Spot on the other hand walked over to the bar, Jack hot on his tail.

"Where are they going?" The prince yelled, enraged. For all he knew they were not going to come back. They were probably going to fetch reinforcements like those little wretches that Spot had sent upstairs. He hoped the division of four to one at the exact moment would convince Spot to give him a straight answer.

Spot just turned to them with a smirk. With a quick wink he turned to Blue, "So what'd you wanna tell me before we left?"

"You're going to Odessa, right?" Blue made sure his facts were straight before continuing. "There's a tavern there, the Pernik Tavern. It's basically Odessa's version of here. If you need somewhere to stay or have them sent, go there. My friend Hawk runs it, he'll help you out. Just tell him I sent you. All the best thieves in the area stay there, and I'm certain they'd all be glad to work with the likes of a Conlon."

Spot bowed his head for a moment at the mention of his surname and all it stood for. "You have no idea how thankful I am for your connections sometimes," he said, "Save our rooms while we're gone."

"Now when have I ever given your rooms away?"

"You've made attempts in the past."

Blue shook his head, "Only in jest. Alright, but if you do stop at _that place_ be sure not to let the nobles in on it. Keep your gang out of trouble. I don't want to have to watch out for injured thieves once you return; takes all the fun out of it."

"I am _not_ bringing the nobles to Avignon," Spot whispered, "but it's not a bad idea to stop there." He looked up to find the rest of his ranks coming back downstairs, "It may well be more than a year before we return."

"Time will pass quick enough. I'll make sure to keep the young'uns out of trouble. Before you know it you will be back here getting into bar fights and robbing from the palace again. Ah, how I look forward to the day I can throw you out that door and tell you to learn to control your drinking or stay out."

As Spot turned from the bar he flashed Jack an I-told-you-so smile and took the cloak of black material that Mouse offered him. The rest of the thieves had gathered an assortment of cloaks and weapons, new swords, more arrows, and daggers; things of that nature. "Shall we?" Spot asked Jack, motioning toward the door.

"You were telling that man about our mission! No one must no of it!"

"That man holds more secrets than you could know. He won't breathe a word to a single soul, _ever_."

Jack scowled but reluctantly led his boys out the door, the thieves falling closely behind and routinely looking around, more aware than the nobles of their surroundings. Mouse, Race and Spot remained relatively calm as they entered the palace. Their friends' eyes went wide with awe at some of the things they saw outside of their usual hallway. All the gold and jewels were exceedingly tempting, but having the nobles right there in front of them kept anyone from trying, even Blink.

Several guards greeted them as they entered the east wing. While most of the thieves, Racetrack included seemed a little on edge Mouse and Spot did not seem at all thrown by their appearance, even less so as they flanked them on their trip through the palace. The guards and thieves continued to exchange nervous glances as they proceeded down the hall. Wolfgang threw open a heavy set of oaken double doors, leading them into a massive study.

The room was themed in red and gold. Plush chairs and couches littered the room, and everything shone as though it had just been cleaned. Shelves filled with thick, well-bound volumes lined the walls, flowerpots sat atop each table, and a large fire burned away in the hearth.

"This," Jack boasted, "Is one of the palace studies. My father's office is right upstairs. We're going to have to start planning your new identities for the trip. I guess you can keep your color schemes," he shrugged, "but we're going to have to get you some new clothes, finer material. I suppose Spot and I will be making up some titles."

"I guess so," Spot agreed. He'd be damned if Jack thought the shorter thieves were all playing pages.

"We will be mixing the nobles and the thieves." Jack all but spat the last word.

"My boys ain't all going to be your pages."

"Did I ever say they would?" Jack would admit, he had been thinking it, but his father was and he had spoken of it earlier. "I believe we are all to be of a squire's age. However, he does wish us to pair up. We shall discuss it with him rather than arguing over it here."

"Weapons?" Spot asked, "What about them?

Jack rolled his eyes and began to walk toward an opposite door. "I suppose your men all know what weapons they want then?"

"Us people have our specialties," Mouse put in.

"I apologize," Jack said, not sounding or looking the least bit sincere. But then, sincerity of royals was known to be rare.

"We should probably head to the armory then," Wolfgang quickly interjected. He shot a fierce glance at the prince, "Dutchy, would you be so kind as to get the door?"

Dutchy and David pulled the heavy doors open. The thieves gawked in amazement. Lining several walls and tables, as well as littering the floor were weapons of all sorts, both practice and battle ready. Daggers, swords, rapiers, spears, and tridents; they all lined the walls. Longbows, crossbows, and other weapons lined the tables. Quivers of arrows toppled haplessly to the floor.

These were nothing like the weapons each thief held; even their best were not this nice. Almost all the weapons held precious gems, gold, silver, and Artol only knows what else.

Spot was the first to stumble out of their stupor, "Who do all these belong to? Where on earth did you get them all?"

"My father started this collection when he began his knightly training. He receives them as gifts now, when he goes on all of his political trips. There are tridents and daggers from Cascade, rapiers from Kiel, and daggers and bows from Telc and Mure. It's to be passed on through my family now..." Jack trailed off for a moment looking at all of them.

_It isn't right for one person to own so many weapons_, Spot thought to himself both envious and awestruck.

David picked up where Jack had left off, "King Adonis collected weapons from everywhere and made a private armory. It's where we're to arm ourselves if there was ever a war. Mostly now they're just used for parties or formal events. We haven't really had a chance to try most of them; just the practice stuff." He pointed to a table of beaten, inexpensive weapons.

"Yes, that's it," Jack agreed, coming out of his daydream.

"At least one of them doesn't have an ego bigger than this room," Hotshot muttered to Mouse. She nodded in David's direction as she spoke. He seemed as in awe of the weapons as the thieves did.

"Silence," Wolfgang hissed at them while Mouse stuck out her tongue while Hotshot glared, "We all need to pick weapons for the trip. It doesn't matter if you thieves bring your daggers and weapons, but it can not be seen. There is no way any self respecting noble would carry a pewter dagger wrapped in leather." He glowered at Mouse's belt of daggers as he spoke.

"And just what exactly are you getting at anyway?" Hotshot defended. She was upset at his underestimation of their fighting ability and knowledge. "Are you trying to say we don't know how to travel? Because let me tell you something, we've been to far more dangerous places further from this kingdom, country even, than all of you combined."

Wolfgang made a move to advance and curb her pertness with him but abruptly turned away scowling as he caught the Prince's eye.

The six thieves began to wander the room, looking more closely at all the weapons. Picking an occasional sword up and testing them; much to the dismay of two guards by the door. The young nobles worked their ways around as well as, two of the largest tables being cleared for their equipment.

Spot had chosen only a simple weapon, a small but lethally sharp dagger. The hilt was a deep black and the dagger itself silver; never used and perfectly sized to fit inside a boot. No doubt it was the first place an enemy would check for a dagger, but if Spot even reached in wrong he could cut himself. Even when questioned he reassured them that the dagger and his cane were enough protection.

Blink had picked up a trident, one that had been given to the king as a gift from a Cascadian noble. It was a sterling silver weapon which he would strap diagonally to his back, the gold tipped points pointed downward. The handle of Blink's trident was adorned in pearls, a single large oyster shell and was tipped with and amethyst. It was the very image of things he had seen and grown up around in his childhood. He also added a small strap of daggers, pearls and shells magnificently decorating them. They would join the leather wrapped one's he always wore.

Dutchy was the first noble's son to finish. Looking nervous he laid a large sword on the empty second table. A gold and silver scheme was its coloring but the hilt was wrapped in gold-colored suede. A single ruby shined form the place where blade met hilt.

Mouse laid down a strap of Cascadian daggers similar to Blink's. Hers were tipped with amethyst. A rapier in sterling silver was also placed on the table. It was lined with amethyst and pearls as all Cascadian weapons were.

David also laid a rapier on the table. The gold handle was littered with light blue gems and there was a star carved into the blade. It was larger than that of Mouse but not by much.

Wolfgang chose a back hanger baldric; it was a long sword with an incredibly wide blade that strapped to his back. The people of Adiana, where Wolfgang had grown up, commonly used it. It was heavier and larger than all of the weapons there. Judging by Wolfgang's size he could probably do considerable damage in one swift swing of the weapon. The sword itself was cast in silver with gold engravings along the blade; its hilt was trimmed in jewels as well as a dark green leather grip.

Specs had looked over many weapons and picked up a remarkably simple one. It was a tall staff made of an unnamable type of wood but silver curled around the outside of the weapon. The top was finely decorated with rare jewels, emeralds, colored diamonds, and rubies to name a few. The sterling silver of the sides was also decorated with the same ancient symbols that adorned several of the other weapons in the room.

Hotshot found her weapons at about the same time, the best bow in the room. It was made of ash and very strong. The string was new and there wasn't a single scratch in the wood. She laid it alongside a quiver of her own green tipped arrows. She also laid a strap of Muran daggers. They were silver, each black hilt wrapped in dark greed suede.

Jack removed his sword from his scabbard and placed it next to her weapons. It was they typical sword of a noble, its golden handle adorned with jewels of many colors. His initials were also carved into it. It still looked new, though the thieves all realized he had probably fought with it before.

Racetrack was the last to pick his weapons. He brought up a belt lined with throwing darts. They were dark, their pointed tips freshly sharpened. He also added two bottles of liquid next to them, expectantly poisons. He laid another belt on the table as well. Crimson throwing stars from Telc were held on it. The weapons were light, easily thrown and were the perfect size to hide within the cuffs of his sleeves. Race had been testing them out as the others picked their weapons.

"That's it then," David said, "shall we move on to names?"

"No," Jack insisted. "Spot and I will go upstairs. We have to discuss this trip with my father. We will prepare the names and talk with him about how this will be done. Boys take these men and get some new clothes for them. And Dutchy, fetch Aurelie, and tell her to have fun with those two." He nodded toward Mouse and Hotshot.

With that said Jack and Spot walked side by side out of the room. This left the rest of them still standing in the armory doorway.

David sighed, "We should probably get going then. The seamstress should have something that will fit you." He began walking toward the door and was followed eagerly by the rest of the boys.

"Come along then," Dutchy said to Mouse and Hotshot, "I'm sure Aurelie will have something that will fit the two of you. This'll be fun."

Dutchy, Mouse, and Hotshot left the room quietly and made their way up the stairs. Hotshot took an opportunity and hissed in Mouse's ear, "Why do I have a feeling we're going to regret this?"

Aurelie, luckily, was in her room, and happy to help Dutchy. He left to find the other boys as Aurelia warmly invited the two girls into her room. Mouse and Hotshot made themselves comfortable on the king sized bed while the room's owner threw open the ebony doors of her large closet revealing her fine collection of dresses. The thieves immediately stiffened exchanging wary glances.

"Now let's get started." The woman squealed with excitement ignoring the looks of horror on the other's faces. She may have been a knight but she still enjoyed dressing up.

"Hmmm" Aurelie began eying the girls before her. Motioning for the two to stand she began taking their measurements and recording them carefully. "Ah-ha! I've got just the perfect dress to match your cloak Hotshot!" She exclaimed disappearing into the walk in closet.

Oh where is that dress! I hope I didn't throw it out." She mumbled as she dug through the closet. They heard her comment as she desperately searched for a dress.

"You don't need to find it. Honestly, I'm sure you never wore a dress during your knightly training." Hotshot responded truly hoping the Lady had lost any dress she wished to give her.

"At any function you attend they will expect you to dress appropriately. Hey, here it is! I found it!" The noble exclaimed emerging with a long forest green gown. "Here try it on for size and if it fits you can wear it the remainder of the day!"

Plastering a fake smile on her face, the thief accepted the garment cringing inwardly as she went into the Lady's dressing room.

Hotshot emerged minutes later and stood awkwardly before the enthusiastic noble and smirking thief. The dress was elegant in its simplicity, with gold piping on the sleeves and stylized neckline perfectly highlighted the solid print. The sleeves of this sateen dress flared to bring extra attention. It fit Hotshot perfectly much to her dismay.

"It's perfect! You look beautiful in it Hotshot! Now all we have to do is fix your hair. Not that there's anything wrong with it but you'll look better in the dress if you let you hair down." Aurelie praised.

"Yeah, you look beautiful." Mouse managed before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Shut up Mouse, you're next."

And indeed Mouse did shut up taking on a fearful look, eyes growing large. "But, but I am wearing a dress. Can't I just keep this one it's my favorite!"

"Well of course you can keep it," Aurelie began "You just can't wear it is all. Not to offend you but Ladies training for their knighthoods usually do not wear such, uh, revealing gowns."

"It's long sleeved!"

"Yes, but it's the skirt. It's far too short for any self respecting noble woman."

Scowling Mouse plopped on the bed crossing her arms and mumbling something about unfairness. Hotshot on the other hand wore a smirk, almost identical to the one Spot usually held.

"Now let me see… hmmm yes I think I know the prefect color to compliment your pale complexion, now to find the right dress." And with that Aurelie vanished once more among her dresses. Seconds later she came back with a pale purple dress trimmed in silver made from flowing delicate fabric. "This used to be my favorite dress. It'll be just perfect for you."

Mouse sulked into the dressing room to put it on, after fifteen minuets or so Aurelie was called in to help with the lace up back. Overall, her new dress was long and elegant, featuring a scooped neck and a slight train. A silver rope encircled the waist loosely and both the neckline and sleeves were adorned by a silver trim.

"Wonderful! You both look like real nobles now! You just make yourselves comfortable while I find the finishing touches."

"Finishing touches?" Hotshot questioned. "You mean there's more?"

"Uh-huh! Well, we have to do your hair and make up, and you'll both need a pair of slippers. Boots aren't for dress especially gowns like yours."

After Aurelie entered the dressing room Hotshot turned to Mouse and the two began complaining. "I don't know about you," Hotshot said immediately "but I didn't sign up for this."

Mouse nodded in agreement before adding to the conversation. "No kidding! And what are these nobles thinking anyway? With these fancy outfits we'll never make it to Odessa without drawing attention and suspicion."

"Obviously they haven't traveled alone much. If we're going to get there we have to travel our way. We can dress like lords and ladies when we arrive." Hotshot hissed back to her friend.

"I'd rather not dress like them at all, but I guess if we have to work together we need to compromise." Mouse concluded dismally.

The two sat in silence as Aurelie continued to dig through her closet, both plotting ways to kill Spot and Race for trapping them in such a predicament.

Aurelie came bustling in moments after the two friends had finished their conversation. In one hand she carried a decorative gold belt and in the other two pairs of slippers.

"I almost forgot to give you this Hotshot!" She exclaimed sliding the belt around the thief's waist. "I never wore the dress without it! There now both of you brush you're hair out and put on these slippers while I do your makeup."

She handed Hotshot a pair of gold colored slippers lined in matching forest green fur, to which the Lady explained that she had all of her shoes custom made to match each dress. Mouse received a pair of sliver slippers lined in fur dyed pale purple as well as a new cloak because the one she owned 'simply didn't match'. Mouse's new cloak was along the idea of her slippers it was a sliver colored satin cloak lined in pale purple fur.

When Aurelie had finished the makeup she worked on their hair. For Hotshot she enhanced its already wavy style and pushed it behind her ears leaving two strands in front to frame her face. When she got to Mouse she decided to make two thin braids both starting just above the ear. Then she joined the two together with a thin strap as the extra-unbraided strands fell and blended in with the rest of her hair. She then took a single white rose and pinned it to the strap that held the braids together.

Finally Aurelie stood back and examined her work. The other girls squirmed a bit under her scrutinizing gaze. Normally they wouldn't be bothered by, it but they just weren't used to wearing such fine gowns. Add that to the fact that they felt a bit out of place.

"Just a minute." Aurelie finally spoke rushing toward her vanity table where her prized jewelry collection was held. She drew out a beautifully hand carved, white ebony box engraved with the crest of Salso.

From this she took a gold brooch and approached Hotshot once more. "You just can't wear a brass cloak pin with such a beautiful outfit." Lady Candy explained to the protesting girl as she replaced the cloak pin with her gold brooch.

"What about weapons? How can we hide them under these gowns?" Hotshot asked

"Well," Aurelie smiled brightly, remembering the day she had met Dutchy and frightened the living daylights out of him by pulling two rather large daggers from her full-skirted dress. "You can strap daggers to your legs, under the skirt, inside the cloak or sleeves. Usually they will give you a sword with some fancy belt for functions, to show you're a knight, and not a lady in waiting.

"Let's see we're gowned, cloaked, accessorized I think we've covered everything. Now we'll return to the study and wait for the men to finish. I'll send you measurements down to the seamstresses so they can have breeches and shirts ready for your practice as well"

"What about our clothes? I told you that dress was my favorite!" Mouse whined.

"Oh I'll have them packed for you. Don't worry about it." Aurelie led the girls out of the room bursting with excitement. "Oh I can't wait to show the guys!" She squealed, "You look so pretty in your dresses! Just imagine their reactions! They'll be so shocked, I bet they faint!" She giggled.

Hotshot and Mouse exchanged glances and finally decided that it would be amusing, among other things, to have Spot and their friends gawking at them. As they entered the armory they noticed that the boys' weapons were missing.

"Wow the two of us took that long to get ready! They already changed and have their weapons." Mouse thought out loud.

Aurelie just shrugged, "Well it takes time to look beautiful."

As if she had spoken some magic words the door on the other side of the study opened and the boys walked in. Each was dressed similarly to what he had been upon leaving the room, but even from far away one could tell that the fabrics were finer and less worn. Some were styled a bit differently, not so much though that you could not tell them apart by colors.

They all halted about three feet from the girls. The noble's had raised eyebrows and the thieves were doing little less than smirking.

Ever the ladies man Blink was the first to speak, "Well you ladies look lovely." His eyes were dancing with laughter and behind him Race was trying to contain fits of giggles.

"Thank you Blink," Mouse said sincerely. As Race opened his mouth to add his own retort she quickly added, "Race, you've gotten into enough trouble for one day, so stop while you're ahead.

Hotshot approached the group of Specs and Blink glaring at them. "Don't say a word," she ordered.

"C'mon, Hotshot you look nice." Specs argued.

"I look like a damned lady." If there was one thing she hated it was resembling the weaker sex more than she had to.

Blink grinned widely, "I'm pretty sure that was the point."

Dutchy watched them with amusement on his face. They reminded him of storied his older brothers had told him of Aurelie's first experiences with appropriate court dress. Both had gone through their knightly training near the same time as her. She had served his older brother Ouin as a squire.

The room went quiet when the doors opened again. Spot and Jack walked in, the latter holding a slip of parchment, followed by two servants. The servants left boxes, presumably the thieves' clothes on a table and left.

Jack and Spot looked over the newly dressed thieves. Jack smirked as a comment came to mind when he saw the girls. "Will you look at that, they almost look convincing. And look at the skirts those two are wearing. They look female now." His eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary on what Aurelie had found them, "Probably couldn't fight for their lives though."

Hotshot had had it when he made the comment about them being unable to fight. It wasn't hard for Jack to piss her off and she personally did not care who he was. She stepped forward and swung a punch into his face. One of Spot's friends found it convenient to hold her back before she had the chance to punch him again.

"You'd think nobles would learn faster than that," He said, "Don't mess with her. She won't hesitate to beat you into the ground.

Jack hadn't received the full force of the hit, he'd turned his face quickly enough but there was going to be a bruise across his cheek from her. He just scowled bitterly as Spot smirked at him.

Spot motioned for his men to sit. The nobles quickly followed their action and soon Jack and Spot were the only ones left standing.

"Okay," Spot started, "We have been talking with King Adonis and worked everything out. We'll fill you in as we leave so don't worry. Anyway, we worked out who's going to be from where since we cannot leave that to the imagination, and we need to learn their customs. We also heard a good deal about this _teacher_ who is to meet us at the outskirts of Odessa." He nodded in Jack's direction as he was the one holding the list.

Jack rubbed his cheek lightly before he began speaking. "Well, since it is my uncle I have to stay a noble, Jack of Tralee is my title." He checked the list, "The rest of you do well to remember your titles and those you are partnered with. We have agreed on all of them with my father. Let's see Wolfgang of Adiana and Racetrack of Telc."

Wolfgang glared in Race's direction and Race glared back. Neither looked happy about it.

"You match the description of the Telcan people Race. I know you mother was from there and Telc and Adiana are known allies." Spot forced any thought of change out of Racetrack's head.

Jack continued, " David of Rhone you shall be paired with Mouse of Ohaku. We made certain Kid Blink and yourself were located close to Cascade in case we need to defend your lineage. Dutchy of Oort and Kid Blink of Ipel. Let's see, who's left," He flipped to the back of the page, "Specs of Kiel, you are paired with me."

Specs and Hotshot turned to one another as realization dawned upon them. Hotshot turned back to Jack and the only other person who had not yet been named in the lists of knights and squire.

"You had better not read the last-" she started.

"Finally, Spot of Pernik and Hotshot of Mure."

Hotshot muttered a very unladylike word that made Spot raise an eyebrow at her, and Dutchy stifled a laugh. She opened her mouth to complain to him but he spoke first.

"All of these are final. We argued them for quite a while and I am not in the mood to reorganize all of them. I don't care who complains. Now, since I don't trust the nobles quite enough yet two of you are staying at the tavern tonight. Mouse, Specs, you are going. Jack has found rooms for the rest of us. We'll talk before you leave about where to meet tomorrow."

"I don't have to go like this, do I?" Mouse griped motioning to her dress.

"Do you want to?"

"What do you think?" The girl demanded drawing a chuckle from her leader.

"No you really shouldn't wear it unless you plan on getting mugged. That goes for all of you, wear your clothes and you'll change back when you get here in the morning."

The thieves and the nobles separated into their two groups while Spot began hissing orders into the ears of the duo that was returning to their home, leaving the other three out entirely. "Don't forget the stuff I told you to bring, it's important," He called as they walked out the door.

It was then that Hotshot started in on him. "What was that Spot? You put me with you and him with that spoiled prince. Then you send him out of here for the rest of the day. What is this, some kind of joke?"

"Hotshot," Spot insisted, "just be quiet, I know what I'm doing. If I put you two together there'd be issues. Do we have to remind you of that time-"

"Don't go any further with that sentence."

"Alright, but don't get upset with me, I split everyone else up too. We need to cover all our assets and keep an eye on the nobles."

"Yeah," Race agreed, "Just look how screwed I am. I'm stuck with the hulking, stupid lug over there. The one who's already the prince's right hand man. I mean, Artol, the guy already hates me."

"Which should make the trip interesting," Spot smirked, "and all of us were split up because we cannot all stay together. The nobles are going to want to make sure we don't mess anything up on _their_ mission and we're going to need to make sure _they_ don't so _we_ make it back in one piece."

"Uhhh, yeah," Blink started, "Spot I was thinking about that earlier. Do you know how many times we're going to be stopped on the road to Odessa wearing these clothes? We look like a band of sophisticated, worthless nobles. And look at what that lady knight dressed Hotshot and Mouse in; they look helpless, and none of this is going to be good for hunting and stuff in. They'll be ruined before we pass Medina."

Spot nodded in agreement, "Exactly why I sent those two back to Blue. Keep the boxes with your old clothes and pack them in the morning, take care of the others' stuff too. I'm taking care of providing clothing and an incentive for the nobles."

Blink's eyebrows perked up, "what do you mean incenti-"

"Conlon!" A yell came from the door.

Their leader's head snapped up and he met Wolfgang's gaze from the across the room. The nobles were all assembled there.

"What?"

"Come along, we'll show you to your rooms for the night."

The nobles traveled throughout another corridor stopping at intervals to show two of the thieves their room. Racetrack and Spot shared a room, though Race was afraid of being murdered in his sleep. The other rooms were for Kid Blink, and a separate one for Hotshot as it was not right for a woman her age to be in a room with a man she was not wed to.

They had dinner in Spot and Race's room while they discussed plans for the trip. Only in what the thieves needed to do to survive it though. They agreed not to tell the nobles about the special powers any of them had. They already knew Mouse and Blink were Cascadian, and Mouse was doing this weird thing lately, but a few of the others had talents they didn't know about. The thieves knew Dutchy was a healer but were content with the fact that they were the only ones to possess magical powers of any kind.

It was much later that night when they split up to sleep. Each made themselves comfortable in the room in which they were staying. The sheets on the beds were silk with feather pillows. It was heaven compared to what they were used to. They almost felt bad for the two who had been volunteered to leave. Reluctantly they tried to sleep; tomorrow would undoubtedly be a long day, and they would need to be rested and ready.

A/N: Holy shit, we graduated tonight! Anyway, I don't know about my buddy, but I am not scheduled to work for the entire next week. Updates, and I'll start new chapters. FFn was being a bitch the other night so the other version has been up on fictionpress for a few days. I'm sugar high right now and off to my all night party.

Tah, from the graduated.

Leave us some love.

Exempt From Sanity


	8. Wolfgang: This could be a trap

Justify the Thrill  
Chapter 6  
Exempt From Sanity

Despite the bed being softer than any he'd slept in for years Spot was up at first light the next morning. He moved around the room and dressed in the noble's clothes quietly, leaving Racetrack asleep in his bed. He knew there would be little comfortable sleep for the next several weeks so there was no need to rouse him so early. There was a guard waiting for him outside the door, and he followed the heavily-armed man down a maze of stairways to the stable. They stood by the door for what seemed to be only a few moments before two figures appeared through the early morning mist. They followed Spot inside and returned to his room.

It was barely a surprise for Race to be awakened by a splash of ice-cold water on his face. Mouse stood over him with a grin for a moment longer before Spot replaced her. "Get up and get ready," He hissed, "I have to wake the others."

He moved along the rooms not caring if he bothered anyone. He threw open the doors to Blink's rooms and woke him in a similar manner. H ordered his friend dressed and ready within the half hour.

He was less than surprised to find Hotshot not yet awake when he reached her room. He pulled the blanket off of her. The action woke her but she refused to even open her eyes. She curled into a ball and rolled over. "You need to be ready in half an hour," Spot warned her.

"Yes, Spot, I know. Now will you kindly get out of my face!"

It seemed that Dutchy had woken the nobles as they were all assembled at the gates when Spot and the thieves arrived. Each thief was decked out in the same fancy clothing as their enemies of sorts. Guards soon arrived at the gate; several surrounded the king and others walked their mounts.

Nearly a dozen of the best palace horses as well as two stockier ponies pulling a cart were provided for their trip. A packhorse was tied to the back of the cart, loaded down with supplies. All of the animals, even the packhorse which was honestly plain and rather dirty looked majestic compared to the mountain ponies and odd horses that most of the city's occupants owned. Their gear was new, but looked as though it had been common made.

Spot took a rather large package from Specs and slipped it onto the cart without being noticed. What he had brought would most definitely be needed before the day was through. He moved back into position and looked toward the king.

"I want to thank you and your friends for doing this, Mr. Conlon." King Adonis said, "Most thieves would rather spend their lives in jail than do me a favor. You are truly a good man."

Spot nodded, "Thank you sir." He didn't necessarily agree with the king but he didn't see any need to be rude either. He stepped forward and faced his friends. They all looked considerably more awake and alert than they had when he'd woken them not thirty minutes before.

He spoke directly to them, "If any of you back down now I'll understand. I'm sorry I had to drop all this on you so fast, and I didn't really give you time to think about it. Now that you really understand what we're doing I won't be mad if you want to back out."

All of the thieves exchanged glances. Of course Spot would be mad; in fact he would be furious. It would be the understatement of the century to say that any of them were exactly eager to go but they weren't about to let Spot get stuck with four noble-born brats for more than a year by himself. They also weren't about to march back to Blue or give up the chance to do something like this. Adventure and risk were what they lived for.

Race seemed to redeem himself for his actions the past day by speaking up for all of them, "What? And let you have all the fun!"

Spot tried to smile and failed, "This isn't going to be fun."

"Yeah, yeah, we know; it's going to be lots of hard work." Race interrupted him, "but I believe we can handle it."

"That goes for all of you as well," King Adonis continued. His gaze was directed toward the nobles and his son. "Personally, I believe all of you are too young to be doing this. If I could I would send more experienced knights, and not squires. If you want to stay here, now is the time to speak up."

Wolfgang looked to Jack who stood in his place, unmoving. The other boys also looked to the Prince. Not one of them so much flinched, or looked anywhere near doubtful. It was almost inhuman to show so little emotion and personal struggle over such a big decision. Jack had to go, and the others would return to their families, disgraced, if they did not obey the wishes of their king. None of the thieves could determine if their reason to go was in allegiance to Jack or their families' honor.

"Very well then," King Adonis nodded solemnly. "I wish you all luck. Get to Odessa, collect the information we need as safely as possible, and return home, and do not get caught. I only hope you have enough sense to listen to each other."

The group dispersed to find their mounts. The cart had been reserved for Mouse. In the nobles' eyes, she was a woman, but the thieves knew her to be talented in her control of carts, wagons, and horses in general.

As they walked to find their mounts King Adonis stopped Spot with his long cane, knowing the thieves would keep a strong horse for their leader.

Spot looked up at the tall king. Being short was the only disadvantage he remembered having to face, but on the other hand, King Adonis towered over everyone, including many of his knights, "Can I help you, Sire?" He asked.

"Master Conlon," The king began, "I know you do not think highly of my son and nobility in general."

Spot shrugged, "They don't show any respect for those lower than themselves. I figure that's reason enough not to show it back. Respect must be earned. That's the first thing my friends and I learned in this city."

"That's an important lesson to learn," King Adonis agreed, "It's also something that my son and his friends may not have a firm grasp upon. You and your friends have done all sorts of things, dangerous things, am I quite correct."

"Yes sir." Spot agreed.

"In their knightly training they are taught to fight well. Their talent will surprise you, just as I'm sure yours will surprise them. The only thing is they are the sons of nobility so they believe no harm can come to them, and no one should want such strong enemies as their families. These boys believe that they know adventure and danger. They haven't faced any real danger, and if they did there was always someone older and more experienced there to help them. They don't know how to think on their feet and get out of sticky situations like you and your friends. Also, they aren't as experienced as you are with traveling, especially not without protection."

"What exactly are you trying to say, Majesty?"

"I am saying that I want you to take care of them and make sure to keep them out of trouble. Teach them a bit so they'll be able to take care of themselves in the future. Who knows, maybe you'll even learn something from them."

"I doubt that." Spot shook his head, "but I will try my best." With that he bowed quickly to the king and hurried over the gelding to which Specs held the reigns. He walked to the front of the line and took his position next to Jack.

He didn't turn once to look back at the city as they left in a rather extravagant procession. The sooner he could put space between himself and Tralee the better, especially for now. The escort of guards completely surrounded the group in a rather smothering manner. Spot vaguely remembered seeing the royal family on parade under such guard and wondered if the king or Jack felt similar about the atmosphere. He quickly shook the thought away as they left the guard at the forest's edge.

Jack on the other hand glanced back many times at the party of guards whom were quickly ushering his father inside. His father had not even stayed outside long enough to watch them leave. There had been no farewell words to him, no advice for the king's son, but it seemed he had spoken at great length with Spot.

As they reached the first turn in the path and left sight of the guards Jack urged his horse into a run. Upon suddenly being away from the restraints of the palace he liked the feeling of freedom and suddenly wanted to be far away from his father. Spot urged his horse to match Jack's pace and the others easily kept the pace.

Perhaps the running horses and clink of metal from both weapons and tack were reason enough that no one noticed. Perhaps the guards were too lazy or just did not care enough. Whatever the reason no one noticed when a strange figure rode near the path still in the brush, following a good distance behind the young riders.

1

Race kept an eye on their surroundings. He knew these woods and the road well. His friends and he had often traveled it, selling the items they had stolen from the palace. He knew they would not reach another village before nightfall. That was what the nobles wanted and thought, but he knew better. Even the fastest horses in all of Rosslare could not make it that far in one day. But he was not about to ruin their fun and tell anyone else that.

After the first half candle's run Jack had slowed their pace. Spot let him set the pace, because he was not concerned with how long the trip took, in fact, the longer the better. The longer it took the more the king was willing to pay them. Yes, after so many years together Race knew Spot's mind quite well. Jack's sudden speed as they entered the woods had startled Spot a bit. The only part that Race did not know was that Spot had chanced a look at the young prince's face and seen anger etched across the young noble's features.

This boy has everything he could ever want Spot thought to himself what does he have to be angry about. He decided it would be better not to question him and just go along with it. It had been so long since he had last ridden that he certainly did not mind the feel of the breeze on his face.

They rounded a sharp corner close to midday. The corner itself was nothing special. They had passed several almost identical to it along the road already. This corner was different though. Spot knew this corner very well, which was why he brought his horse to a very abrupt stop. The other thieves followed suit very quickly. Mouse stopped the cart so quickly that had she been unprepared she would have been sent tumbling out of the cart. The nobles had to force their horses to the side in order to avoid collisions. Jack turned his horse from several lengths down the path and returned to the group.

"What's wrong?" He asked Spot, "It's barely midday, far too early to stop."

Spot said nothing but made a quick motion with his hands. The thieves all dismounted and gave their reins to whichever noble they were nearest to. Blink threw several small, tightly packed sacks which had been hidden in the cart. The nobles only sat speechless as the six thieves dispersed into the woods.

"What the hell are they doing?" Wolfgang spat. He turned to Jack, "For all we know this could be a trap."

Dutchy proceeded to call out the names of several of the thieves in hopes that they would return quickly. They reappeared one by one over the course of several minutes.

David's jaw dropped at the sight of them. "What do you think you're…" he trailed off, nearly speechless.

Jack was the first to speak what everyone was thinking, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He directed the question at Spot.

He asked with good reason. Every single one of the thieves was now wearing what she or he had been when they had first met the nobles. Their clothes were those of common people. The boys' shirts and breeches were made of course fabrics and the girls wore their old clothes. Mouse wore her dress proudly, and Hotshot her leggings and blouse. Their clothes were all stained or worn looking.

"You and your men need to change," Spot said. He caught the sack that Specs threw at him and heaved it at Jack. The noble caught it deftly.

He pulled out a set of worn clothes and looked at them in disgust. "What do you think you're trying to pull?"

Spot sighed and opened his mouth to speak.

"I wouldn't wear these rags if you paid me."

Spot went red with anger at Jack's poor choice in words. "Listen here you stuck up, arrogant, little snob, "He practically spat, "I don't care what the hell you think at the moment, or what you have to say. It's time you close your mouth and listen to me. If we stay dressed in those fancy clothes you're so fond of we're going to be robbed and most likely killed before we even reach Brindisi. If you want me to put it simply, the shirt you are wearing, or the leggings, or the cloak are all worth more than all ten of our lives to the common thieves that live around here.

"If we dress like commoners and thieves and hide our weapons for the most part they will just assume we are commoners or thieves selling our wares from town to town. They could still attack us, but the chances of that happening slim to none."

Jack just stared.

"Maybe we should just change then," Dutchy suggested. He was immediately shushed by Wolfgang and David.

"What's it gonna be, Jack?"

The prince was outrages at the way this common-bred boy addressed him so informally, as though they were equals. This was an insult and a joke. He threw the clothing to the ground at Spot's feet, "Forget it. I'm not dressing like some common criminal just so you can get a laugh."

Wolfgang loudly agreed from behind him.

Spot had to fight to control his temper. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists as he retrieved the clothing form the ground. He spoke calmly, and evenly, "You are going to regret that."

The two of them sat there for several minutes, just staring at each other. Neither was willing to turn away first and show defeat. Their trip would be a show of will all the way to Odessa and back.

As if some cue had been dropped an arrow soared through the air. It caught Wolfgang's fancy feathered hat, pulling it from his head and connecting it to a nearby tree. A second caught Jack's cloak, pining it to a tree which was, luckily, close enough to allow him to remain mounted on his horse.

Jack managed to pull the arrow out of the tree and climb down from his mount. He approached Spot and stood with less than an elbows length from him holding the feathered arrow between them. "This was your doing; you're setting us up." He accused.

Spot's face remained deathly calm. He didn't even wince as Jack screamed in his face. Very slowly a smirk crossed his features. His eyes sparkled with dark delight. "Maybe it was Jackie-boy, but then again, maybe it wasn't. How do you know for sure? Are you really willing to risk it all over something so trivial?"

Jack stared long and hard into Spot's eyes, trying to find some hint to the answer. Finally he let out a cry of injustice and snatched the clothes from Spot. "Come on," he called toward his friends stalking toward the woods.

"But Jack-" David began to protest.

"Now." He commanded. Each of the nobles climbed immediately down from their horses and followed him into the woods.

1

Close to two hundred feet from the roadside an archer sat contently in his perch, a tall oak tree. He twirled a third arrow idly in his fingers. Then he quickly notched and released it, sending it into the ground mere inches from Spot's feet. As soon as he saw Spot pick it up he began his decent. He'd lost a complete day of business by doing this, but it was worth it to see the looks on those spoiled brats' faces and besides Spot and his friends were his best customers. If they died so would his business.

1

Spot picked up the arrow and uncurled the parchment that was tied to it. He pitched the arrow into the woods where the nobles were sure not to find it, and then looked at the scroll

_-Spot,  
Hopefully that was enough to convince them. Watch your back and get home in one piece. Good luck. By the way, you owe me.  
-Blue _

Spot smirked and waved in the direction from which the arrow had come. He noticed a small patch of blue among the green of the leaves that surrounded them. He slid the note into his pocket and turned to his friends. They all grinned as the nobles came out from the woods dressed in the course, unfinished attire of a peasant.

1

1

A/N: I almost miss the rain now that it is scorching hot outside. Anyway, only two more chapters until SaL and I have to start getting together and writing again. However, it is summer, so that shouldn't be much of an issue.

And Because I have nothing to do, shout outs:

Time is a waste of life: the dialogue is far too much fun to write. I'm glad you are enjoying it.

Faro: The nobles and the thieves make quite an interesting bunch. We're not exactly sure where to go with all of them yet.

Dreamer: It is more fun that usually possible to reasses the characters for the time period. I think I may have made Spot a tad too moody, what d'you think?

DigitalAngel4U: We decided to take the story in a completely different direction after writing the first nine chapters. We had more characters in the last one, too many in my opinion, and the writing has improved quite a bit. There aren't too many major changes though. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Leave us some reviews,

Exempt From Sanity


	9. Dante: That's beside the point

Disclaimer: You should know by now that they do not actually belong to us, as much as we like to think they do.

Justify the Thrill  
Chapter 7  
Exempt From Sanity

The small caravan traveled along the rough roads for several candle widths, striving to reach the Brindisi oasis before the second night of their journey. There, the band, mainly the thieves, had decided to spend a day selling their wares and cross the Glama desert by nightfall. It would be far easier to cross during the cool night, though it was not necessary to cross at all. That was what the people of Brindisi told every traveler. The thieves' caravan has passed through the desert many times over the years. They had yet to take the longer route around the deserts edge to reach Medina. The journey through the Glama cut off an entire day of travel.

The road to Brindisi was long and treacherous, winding sharply through the brush and woodland. All sorts of animals were common in the expanse of forest between Tralee and Brindisi. Though it was quite dark as a result of vast expanse of tall trees, the sun's immense heat pounded through the large canopies filling the forest with sticky, humid air. The nobles began to appreciate the tattered clothing the Rogues had given them, for they were far lighter and provided some luxury. However, their lack of traveling in such conditions tired them out quickly.

Spot led the convoy followed closely by Race while Jack and Wolfgang struggled to keep up. Behind them rode Blink, Mouse, Hotshot, and Specs who seemed to be amusing themselves with a game. David had opted to ride in the cart and Dutchy road his horse alongside for the sake of conversation if nothing else.

Specs approached Spot and murmured something to Spot as he stopped the procession. He quickly took the horse tied to the cart, David's mount, in a trade for his own tired horse. They galloped quickly along the trail to where he had noticed a group of vultures circling overhead.

Spot took up a lessened pace, a slow trot, while Jack took the opportunity to glance behind him. The Rogues had become silent and attentive, ready for action whereas Jack's friends appeared worn out as moans escaped their lips. It had been a hard ride and even Jack's thighs burned from gripping his horse's sides. It was indeed time for a rest.

"Spot" Jack's voice rang out clearly; "I believe it is time to break for camp." The young prince waited a few moments staring intently toward the Rogue leader who gave a snort.

"You've got to be kidding me." Spot's tone showed obvious frustration. He replied without so much as turning to face the prince. "The day isn't half over."

"My people are tired; they need to rest. Surely you can see that." Even Wolfgang had cursed their travel, and he was easily the most accustomed to travel, and riding. His father was after all the captain of the king's army.

"And we need to reach Brindisi before the day is through." Spot snapped, quickening the pace once more in an attempt to put distance between himself and Jack. If he did not here the prince's complaints there was no need for a response.

A few seconds later he heard a low but familiar whistle, it was a stop or wait signal which the thieves all knew, rolling, and similar to a sparrow. It came from behind him. Spot whipped his horse about to see that Jack had not moved a foot from very place they had spoken.

"Oh, for Artol's sake!" Spot exclaimed. "What to you think you're doing?"

Jack set his jaw. "We have to stop; my men cannot go further without rest."

"Listen Highness, the faster we reach Brindisi, the more time we have to rest before we cross the Glama." Spot stared the prince down, as the rest of the thieves grew restless behind him. "And I swear to you, we can reach it in a few short hours if we do not set up camp here. There are beds and good foods in Brindisi. Why should we waste our rations without need?"

"You're crazy Spot! You'll tire us to death! Even the knights don't push this hard when the armies travel. Brindisi is a three day journey we'll never make it in two. It's impossible!"

"Impossible." The teen spat. There was so much this prince did not know about the very land he would inherit in the next decade. A king should know his own country. "Ha! Impossible is trying to cross an ocean by horse. Seahorses don't count." Spot added before Blink or Mouse could protest. "However I can assure you, _your highness_, it is not now, nor will it ever be impossible to cross a three day stretch of land in less than two. It can be done, it has been done, and it will be done again."

With that the group fell silent the only noise that could be heard was the soft moaning of a gentle breeze passing through and the steady gallop of Specs' fast approaching horse. The young thief happened upon the scene in all seriousness. He could almost feel the tension rising like steam between the two leaders who were surrounded by weary nobles and edgy thieves.

Sighing, and knowing Spot would not be in a pleasant mood after hearing his news, he trotted toward the center where Spot and Jack were still staring each other down.

"Spot," he began, "we need to talk." After a long pause a sharp response was heard.

"What is it?" Spot's eyes never left the prince's face.

Specs glanced around at the others indicating Spot would want privacy. However, one look at Spot's impatient face made him think otherwise. "There is a dead coyote a few miles down the trail. It isn't by any means a small one either. If we had brought Swifty with us he would tell us to stop for the night. He gave me some warnings last night. There are some strange creatures around here, Spot, dangerous ones. And a coyote is a bad omen."

"Coyotes are friends to a thief." Spot referenced an old fable regarding the thieves' god.

"Even Fletcher himself would be wary of this. The other beast may still be around."

"What are they talking about, a coyote being a good omen for someone?" David wondered aloud.

Dutchy shook his head, "That's beside the point."

"What is the point?" Inquired the frustrated Wolfgang.

"Yes" Spot agreed, "What are you trying to say Specs?" He finally tore his gaze away from Jack's and looked the thief in the face.

"Swifty would say not to travel any further. I have to agree with him. We could reach Brindisi tonight Spot, but if we did, we would be putting ourselves in danger of an attack."

Jack grinned triumphantly.

Spot's tightened as his eyebrows furrowed closer together in annoyance until he was unable to hold in his fury. Releasing an agitated bellow which scared his mount, the rogue leader sprang from his horse and stomped off into the dense woodland grumbling a string of vulgar words, which reached the group until he was well out of their sight, under his breath. He was cursing every god known to men for their rotten luck.

"Well then," Came Race's less than chipper voice as he slid from his saddle and rubbed his hand together, "I guess we're staying here for the night."

They found a small clearing nearby and led the horses into it. So they could graze at one end. The group set to work, Specs unsaddled the horses staying with them a while before going with the other thieves in search of water, food, and rocks. They returned long before the day's light had faded to view two great tents in their camp.

"Oh how thoughtful!" Mouse exclaimed setting a large bucket of water down, the nobles smiled at the praise. "Now we don't have to search for fire wood!"

Jack and his friends stared at her incredulously, for they did not hear any trace of sarcasm in the girl's voice.

"These are tents, you know, for sleeping in." David explained standing in front of the arc of gathered nobles.

"What do you need those for? We're only in the woods."

The other nobles began to snicker.

"Where do you expect us to sleep, on the ground?" Jack sputtered causing the group to erupt with laughter.

"You really don't know what a tent is?" David inquired.

"Of course I know what a tent is!" She sounded upset, but not angry, "They're portable rooms made of cloth that people buy so they can brag about how tough and experienced they had because when they traveled they slept in cushioned tents. How can someone be experienced with nature when they sleep inside a tent? You get more out of nature by sleeping on the cool ground under the stars."

"You honestly enjoy sleeping on dirt with insects, not to mention out in the open where who knows what can get at you?" Jack remarked snidely as Mouse's cheeks burned.

"You're making fun of me?" She whispered.

"She's worse than Mush!" Wolfgang joked only seconds before Blink, who had overheard the entire conversation, stood protectively in front of Mouse.

"What was that?" He snapped drawing the attention of the rogues. Blink was roughly the same size as Jack, and muscles rippled under his shirt. Swimming had kept him fit over many years and he was the only thief who honestly looked to be a formidable opponent.

The nobles silenced, staring at the tall Cascadian boy. "There isn't a problem here, I hope?"

A chorus of no's followed the question. "Good, then why don't you go away into those little tents of yours since you're so exhausted from the ride?

With that said the group dispersed into their respective tents. Meanwhile Race had set up for a fire while Specs began tossing bed rolls to Blink who set them up in a circle so when the lay down, their heads would lie near each other making it easier to converse. Hotshot and Blink had found edible berries and Race had arranged several large rocks about the would-be fire as seats, all that was needed was wood for the fire.

Dutchy emerged from the tent he shared with David and timidly sat beside Mouse who instantly blushed.

"Um, I'd like to apologize about their behavior. It was quite rude and I'm sorry that I laughed at you."

The girl nodded staring out into the trees. "I forgive you," She whispered. She knew he was from Oort, he had to have spent weeks out under the trees there.

Dutchy smiled and stared at the circle of rocks around a patch of dirt where Race had thrown some leaves. "Is that going to be a fire?"

"No, Spot'll bring plenty of sticks and twigs back with him. He always does." She giggled.

"But maybe we should build the fire now." Hotshot entered the conversation. She'd seen the boys make fun of Mouse earlier and was not happy about one of her closest friends being hassled by ignorant fools. Dutchy, she found, she could mildly tolerate. Standing she moved over toward the tent shared by Jack and Wolfgang. Squatting down, she inspected the stakes holding it in place. Finally deciding that they were indeed wooden she stood upright once more and gave each a good swift kick causing the tent to collapse onto its inhabitants, who remained deep in slumber. She collected the stakes depositing them into the stone circle on her way to her seat.

They lit a fire and swapped stories until Spot came through the brush, arms full of branches as predicted. Dropping them into the fire he took a seat beside Race and began discussing travel plans. Race pointed out various locations on a map and spoke in a hushed tone.

Spot saw that Blink seemed a bit edgy and soon noticed the noble called Dutchy was sitting beside Mouse. He raised an eyebrow but decided it was too late to comment and he would discover what was going on later. For now he sent the group to bed.

The thieves lay down to rest and spoke in hushed tones to their neighbors before drifting off to sleep. It was around this time that Dutchy returned from his tent in his sleepwear with a bedroll. He set it up beside the fire and made himself comfortable. He lay there for a moment trying to make out the stars through the canopies.

Blink who hadn't been able to sleep him and gave him a quizzical look.

Dutchy caught the look and explained, "It reminds me of home. Oort is very woody."

Blink grinned and rolled over. He was could now forgive the boy as Mouse had. With his new found trust for Dutchy he was finally able to rest decided that the boy would turn out to be a good friend.

1

In their usual spirit when they traveled the thieves were up an hour before the sun. Blink attended the horses, seeming to be very glad to have them around for once. Spot and Race were going over several maps of the trails; drawing in the ones they knew of which the king's mapmakers did not know of. Mouse and Hotshot were repacking everyone's sleeping rolls, refilling water bags, and conversing quietly with Specs as he stirred a soupy looking substance over a small fire.

"So is Spot really planning to go to…" Hotshot trailed off and glanced at the still sleeping Dutchy, "…you know where."

"I guess," Mouse said, "I wonder what it's like there."

"I always forget you two came after we last visited?" Specs glanced up at her. "You'll like it Mouse, it reminds me of the paintings of Cascade."

Mouse shrugged, rolling up the last of the bedrolls. She tossed it to the pile of them, "I'm really wondering how the hell Spot is going to get them all in there without them realizing where they are."

"That's easy," Hotshot said, "most people, especially nobles, believe that Avignon is a myth. Nobles are convinced it is because they have never found it, and even if they do they won't know how to get there. Spot has all the maps." She tasted Specs' bubbling concoction, "Needs more berries."

"I think I know how to cook, thank you very much." He looked at her appalled.

"You think you know how to do a lot of things." She retorted. She picked up two bedrolls and walked toward where Blink was tacking up the cart ponies.

"You're not getting out of it that easy," Specs said, jumping up after her. She sped up and he chased her over too the other side of the camp.

"I swear to Artol, you two," Mouse growled. She had been standing on the log Specs was sitting on. His sudden movement had caused the log to roll slightly, in turn causing Mouse to fall to the ground. Well, not the ground exactly. "Ugh, Dutchy, I am so sorry!"

"S'okay," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He looked in the direction of the sliver of sun peeking over the horizon, and then around camp.

"We need to leave soon."

Dutchy pushed himself out of the bedroll and began to immediately roll it up. He added it to the pile and went into his tent to dig out some clothing.

David awoke soon thereafter, and Dutchy assisted him in taking down the tent. It was highly amazing that the large things could be packed so tightly into their bags.

At the same time the thieves were gathering around the fire. They instructed the nobles to leave their bedrolls in the pile and they could all pack them when they left. Specs began to hand out bowls of the berry mixture.

David mumbled a polite 'thank you' as he accepted the bowl. Once he had eaten he became much more alert and sighted the collapsed tent on across the clearing. "Dutchy?"

"Yeah," He looked up from his breakfast.

"Are," he looked on in utter shock, "Are Jack and Wolfgang still in there?"

Blink nodded, "Hotshot kicked out the stakes to start a fire last night." He turned to Spot, "The sleeping beauties are still out cold."

"I realize that." Spot replied. Spot's voice was still cold. He was still angry about the previous day.

Blink gave him a pleading look and Spot nodded. Blink grinned and licked his lips as he stood up, carefully picking up the bucket of water that was for putting out their fire. He carried it over and swung back.

"Don't-" David leapt up, trying to stop him.

Blink sent the water careening over the flattened tent. A second later there were two, very loud screams being emitted from the dark blanket. The cloth began moving this way and that as the two nobles struggled to get out.

Everyone else was frozen; the thieves by laughter, and the nobles in shock. The two boys cried out in somewhat of a panic until they were able to find their way to the tent's entrance.

Spot chose this moment to shake his head, "What a waste of water." He knew how Blink's mind worked. He would get the idea.

Mouse and Blink locked eyes and turned toward the tent, concentrating. It was hard to be sure what scared the nobles more, having water thrown on them to wake them up, or having it evaporate and refill a bucket in front of their eyes. The thieves were still in hysterics when the bucket was full again. Dutchy was trying to smother his giggles as well.

As soon as he was capable Jack moved to examine the tent and noticed the missing stakes, "Who did this?"

"I did," Hotshot laughed. Guilt escaped her conscience. "Last night too, I'm surprised neither of you woke up nor noticed. We needed wood for the fire. It'll happen to all of them eventually, so you might as well get used to sleeping outside."

"What on earth were you thinking," Jack snapped.

"I was thinking we needed wood for the fire and Artol forbid I ask you to assist in finding some."

"Do you have any idea who you are doing these things too; nobles and a future king. The sons of this country's finest knights." He turned to Spot, "And you, condoning this type of behavior, no encouraging it. I swear that when we return to Tralee I will see to it that your men are all adequately punished for their deeds, and that you have to watch all of it."

Spot's face had hardened as he listened to Jack speak, "I doubt that. You see Jack I am the one who has all of the maps, I am the one who has the power to leave _you_ behind, alone and defenseless around some people who don't take kindly to nobles. Oh no, not at all. And don't think I won't. Your father sent us along to baby-sit you, which I can deal with, but I will not be talked down to by someone who has no experience in real life." Spot snorted, "Has no idea the distance between his own cities or know the roads. Now," He shoved a bowl into Jack's hands. "Shut your trap, have some breakfast and pack that _tent_. We're leaving in a quarter candle."

Jack looked like he wanted to say something but restrained himself; something Spot definitely _would not_ have done under any circumstances had Jack chosen to voice another opinion, so it was probably a wise choice.

Half a candle later they were all mounting their horses and starting back along the trail. At least the quarter candle was spent in utter silence. Even the thieves dared not to make small talk when Spot was in a mood like this.

"Spot," Specs looked at the ground. He stopped his horse.

Spot pulled on his reins and made the horses he was riding turn. He met Specs' gaze and saw him looking down toward the road. "What is it?" He noticed fresh claw marks on the roads dirt surface.

"It was here, last night. The coyote. I saw it with my own eyes, Spot. That thing was huge. Whatever moved it must have been, I don't know, bigger than any of the horses." He squirmed a bit in the horses' saddle, "We just need to get moving faster and get out of here."

"Alright," Spot used a gentle voice that was rarely heard. He turned to the rest of the group and yelled to them, "You heard him, pick up the pace!"

They did so with a renewed sense of urgency, pushing the horses to go faster. This went on only until they felt that they were out of danger's reach. The trees opened up to open sky and sparse fields. At least if anything tried to attack them they would see it coming.

Jack had taken the place next to Spot a candle width later. The two of them had not spoken since their confrontation that morning, and neither was looking forward to the next words they shared. The loathing they felt for one another was only growing as each day passed by. The two could not wait to be rid of each other, and would make it a long trip for everyone else.

Occasionally they exchanged the briefest of glances, each letting the other know that he was still angry. The rest of them had fallen into hushed conversations behind them but did not dare interfere.

They rounded a bend in the path only three candle widths after they had left camp. The road evened out several yards ahead, and about a mile away, in the distance; one could see the towers of Brindisi and see carts from other trails. The company stopped, all looking at the city in wonder. They had actually reached it without killing one another.

Spot turned to them. The thieves all winced; he was smirking. Smirking was dangerous. "Look at that. Brindisi, only three candle widths from where we stopped, and we stopped with at least two candle widths of good light left last night. If we'd kept going like I said we would have made it here last night and been able to sleep in a nice warm inn. We'd have been able to cross the Glama tonight." He let go of his reins and looked up at the sky, putting his arms out to his sides, "Cursed Gods.?"

Jack urged his horse into a walk, "We're here now. Isn't that all that matters?"

Spot let out one last aggravated growl which seemed to release all his tension, "Fine." He kicked his horse hard in the sides, "C'mon guys." The horse charged down the path in the direction of the town. The thieves all urged their horses to run, following Spot's lead. It had been a while since they had brought their goods to Brindisi, and they all had old friends to catch up with.

The noble's didn't see what the rush was about, but didn't mind joining a _real _civilization again so soon.

"What is your business here?" A man at the gate called out as they reached an ancient archway that marked the city's great entrance. He was large and dark skinned, and his face looked unkind.

"Hello Roman," Spot replied. "We've got some goods to distribute. Looking for lodging too. We need to cross the Glama tomorrow night."

The man cracked a toothy grin "You're crazy to be crossing that desert more than once in your life, Mister Conlon, many don't even make it across once. How many times will this make it?"

"Ten."

"And what kind of goods are you bringing in?"

"That is for me to know, not you, Roman." It was quite obvious Spot and his group knew this man as they were shouting various 'hellos'.

"_Stolen,_ no doubt." He spat it like a curse word but there was a sparkle telling of a squandered youth in his eyes. He knocked on the heavy doors which opened inward.

Spot laughed, "Stolen is such a harsh word." He led them all into the streets inside the wall.

"He was right, unfortunately," David said, begrudgingly, "We could have made it here last night."

"I could learn to hate it when he's right," Jack mumbled to David and Wolfgang as they steered their horses in through the archway that lead into the busy city of Brindisi.

1

1

A/N: Hey all, it's Hotshot. Today's my graduation party so I'm just waiting around for it to be one or people to start getting here. SaL's going to be here later. I think a bunch of people are going to stay the night and we're going to sleep in the moon bounce, yeah, we're dorks. So here's another update. The next chapter has major changes made from the original so those of you waiting for new stuff keep an eye out for the next chapter

Wonders if she has time to start another chapter of something else-

Updates soon, I promise.

Exempt From Sanity


	10. Tales of the Brindisi Marketplace

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Disney does.

Justify the Thrill  
Chapter 8  
Exempt from Sanity

1

Brindisi was a great oasis surrounded by the treacherous forest on one side and a barren desert on the other. The thieves had arrived precisely at sun up, a time during which the only signs of life were the merchants setting up their stands along the main road. This was quite shocking for one so used to the unnerving bustle of the Brindisi atmosphere. But they all knew it was the deathly calm before the full assault.

The group made their way down a small side street into one of the poorer regions of the town with the nobles following them closely.

Specs who had taken the lead, as the group entered the city, stopped abruptly before a small tavern, which the thieves appeared to know well. The sign above the door was weather beaten and the paint sanded away, but if you looked closely enough there was surely a mug of ale in view. Entering, the teen gave a shrill whistle to the dozing owner. "Sem!"

The snoring man behind the bar snapped to attention. "Wha-, Specs!" The elderly man exclaimed with astonishment. "Specs, Spot, Mouse! Wha-…your all here! And I see ye've come with buddies."

The rogues nodded begrudgingly, insulted that the nobles had been mistaken as their friends or worse yet some of their own.

"Well I certainly wasn't expecting ye! No sir! Haven't seen ye 'round these parts in many moons, many moons I tell ye! I was beginning to think ye was avoiding me poor old soul, staying away fer so long."

Dutchy stared wondrously at the exuberant manner of old the man. He watched as he maneuvered his great body around the long bar and began leading the traveling companions deeper within the small tavern.

"What'll ye be looking fer this time me lads and lasses? Same as usual I suppose? Oh yes, same as usual! I'll give ye nothing but me finest! Yer lucky, we have no one willing to buy a room so costly at this time of year."

At this the thieves could do nothing to hide their grins. Sem had been nothing short of a grandfatherly figure toward the lot of them. Whenever they lodged in the oasis he'd spoil them rotten. He took them to the top floor where there was an assortment of rooms; three bedrooms and one sitting room, which connected them. It was somewhat of a small apartment, which he reserved only for special and yearly travelers, who in turn paid him generously for it. The rogues were among these few.

"Well here ye are same as when ye left it just this time last year! How long ye'd be in for?" He inquired setting down the girls' belongings, which he'd so politely relieved them of downstairs.

"Oh, just for today. We're hoping, if all goes according to schedule, we'll be crossing the Galma by nightfall." Spot replied for the group. "Thanks Sem for such fine hospitality. Now if you'll excuse us we ought to be getting settled."

"Quite right! Quite right! I meself ought to be headed to the bottom floor. Many regulars to attend to ye know, very busy this place is! Very busy indeed!"

Wolfgang's eyebrows arched upward. It wasn't even late enough in the morning for the merchants to be selling their wares and this bartender had several regulars to attend to down at the bar. Well, this tavern must have been a respectable place indeed. He shook his head as he watched the old man shut the door on his way out.

Spot couldn't help but smile at the exuberant old man as he exited with a wink. Facing the hodgepodge group of thieves and nobles he cleared his throat. "Ok, obviously this is where we are residing tonight if we have complications with our traveling. Now, we have to take advantage of our time here. That means, _Racetrack_, that all of us will get our asses back to the room sometime during the day to rest. And I don't mean getting drunk in the tavern making jackasses of yourselves." He glared at Race and Blink as he spoke. "I swear if any of you slow us down tonight you will be left behind. I will not have the lives of anyone endangered because one of you is too pigheaded to take a nap! We have to reach the Pave oasis by day break because once the sun creeps over those hills we're done for."

"Aren't you kind of…overreacting?" Dutchy commented as he took a seat and began picking at the loose rawhide binding of the chair.

"Well, when you're walking through the desert with the sun beating down on your back, and you've got no food, water, or anything for that matter because just the small weight of a pack is enough to make you collapse. After you've experienced that, then, and only then, can you talk to me about overacting. Until then, you're just going to have to take my word for it."

Hotshot, Mouse, and the other thieves split off quickly to settle into their rooms, having all heard Spot's speech, at least once before, when each of them had first crossed the Glama. Meanwhile they settled into their rooms. The girls' room was the largest and situated between the other two, occupied by the boys. It was easily split, with the four nobles in one room and the four male thieves in the other.

Spot finally noticed their absence and called them back. "Listen, we meet here exactly one half hour before nightfall, you hear me? No later. We'll eat and gather our belongings. Now all of my men and women know Brindisi well, as you can see we spend some time here every year or so. So I want my thieves to be responsible for their respective noble. If they get lost and set us back a day it will be on you heads. You are free to do what you please as long as you get some merchandise sold."

With those final words the group made their way to the ground floor dispersing as they exited the building into the rapidly filling streets. Specs, Hotshot went chattering off one way, dragging Dutchy along with them; while Mouse seized one of Blink's arms and dragged him through the crowds and making a point to show him their favorite spot. Race took off by himself before anyone could stop him. Forgotten were Jack, Wolfgang, and David all of whom were swallowed by the busy streets left to the mercy of the heartless crowds. People and carts whirled by them all trying to get to someplace from somewhere.

Spot on the other hand remained within the already smoky confines of the tavern. He sat at the bar inhaling a drink or two before discreetly handing Sem a fine gold pocket watch decorated with striking rubies. It would fetch a handsome price after a month of showing it off. From his perch on the stool, Spot noticed the three forgotten nobles lost in the bustling streets. Sighing deeply he stood knowing that though he preferred to wander alone, today he would have to look after two spoiled nobles and an even more awful prince.

Racetrack wandered through the city's alleyways in search of the cart of an old business associate. Had any of the nobles been with him they would have wondered only how lost they were. However, the thieves knew better. Even in his angry state, in which most would wander aimlessly, Racetrack knew where he was going.

The boy knew almost every city they had visited inside and out. He studied maps endlessly and could easily tell you the location of everything form the best of the taverns to the home of the village doctor, to the lowest brothel. It was slightly annoying to the others that he could walk into a city none of them had ever seen and know exactly where to go.

Odessa was one of the few cities to which there were no maps. Not that they didn't exist, only that it was not anything that shopkeepers sold or public places held. He would make his own as soon as they got there, though he preferred his own maps rather than having to rely on the work and errors of others. He had already redrawn all of the maps with which the king had supplied them.

He reached the small stand after about a candle's wick of exploring the crowded streets for the right buyer. He finally spotted the right stand, knowing it only by a strip of blue cloth that hung at the east corner. He picked up his pace and hopped up to sit comfortably on the counter.

The vender was seemingly searching for something buried in the back and was not watching the street, so Race's antics went unnoticed.

"Morning Leeta," He greeted her loudly.

The girl stood up quickly and spun to face him. She was shorter than he with short hair that seemed to fit her well. She was thin, but so were most of Brindisi's inhabitants due to their way of living. Selling wares brought in plenty, but after rent and or goods there was not quite enough left for food. Her hands flew to cover her face for a moment before she spoke, "Ayii, it's about time the lot of you got back here. It's been over a year. I'd been wondering if you'd all gotten caught and thrown in jail. I swore if I did not see you before noon I would hunt you down at Sem's. I saw the lot of you coming in this morning." She grinned, "And you brought new meat."

Race shrugged, "They're Gorgon. It's a long story. Don't worry though, nothing to worry about." He spat the curse word for noble as though it poisoned his tongue.

Leeta looked Race over quickly, calculatingly. She opened her mouth to speak but paused, glancing around quickly, "So, what'd you bring me?"

Race smirked and opened his vest pocket. He pulled small gold, silver, and bejeweled mementos out of their well-hidden pockets. The palace was full of worthy trinkets.

Leeta's eyes were wide with pleasure. She let out a bit of a shriek, "This'll keep me fed and lodged for a month or two." She turned toward the back of the stand, "Let me find my money." She reappeared a moment later. "How much do you want for the lot of it?"

Race looked over what they had brought, "Five gold rusheks apiece. Plus two silver melis for anything with jewels."

Leeta looked at him as though he were mad, "I'll give you two rusheks and one meli."

Race replied, "That's out of the question."

"Think of what you just asked me for."

He did indeed look down at the pile. "Fine then, give me a moment." He began separating the goods by what they were made of. Soon he had three small piles; one of silver, another of gold, and a final pile of jeweled pieces. "How about this; two rusheks for anything silver, three for gold, and four rusheks and one meli for anything containing jewels?"

Leeta averted her gaze from him and looked over the items counting and doing the math in her head. "That sounds about right," she turned to Race, "It's a good thing you're cute or you'd never sell a thing." She counted out the money in her purse. "So that's ninety-four rusheks and three melis for you guys."

Race grinned, "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Make sure you bring the lot of you by here next time your in town. Artol and Fletcher only know how much I could get out of all of you." She handed him two more rusheks, "Now go get yourself and your friends some drinks from Sem."

"Now why would I do that when Spot threatened my life if I were to get drunk before nightfall?"

"Because Spot won't find out."

With that Race left. The walk back to the tavern was long, and filled with other interesting sales. Soon enough he found himself sitting at the bar, banging on the counter to catch Sem's attention. Sure enough, it worked.

"Didn't Spot tell you not to drink today, Racetrack?" Sem asked suspiciously.

"He always says that. Thing is we always choose to ignore him too. Pour me a drink, Sem, I promise Spot won't find out."

Sem poured a mug of ale and Race snatched it up, turning to watch a brawl unfold across the room.

Mouse and Blink ran through the bustling marketplace. Their pace never slowed, even when they tripped or ran into other groups.

All at once Mouse stopped and released her friend. The forward momentum sent him stumbling past them and he tumbled to the dirt road they had been running along.

He pushed himself up slowly, "Gee, thanks."

Mouse couldn't help but giggle at the Cascadian boy as she helped him up, "Sorry about that." She around the market as he brushed himself off, "So, where do you want to go?"

Blink's face glowed as he smiled. He gave Mouse a knowing look.

She rolled her eyes. Blink and his girls. "You are such a guy!" She hit him lightly on the arm. "Honestly, you expect me to sell all of this stuff by myself?"

"You've done it before." Blink pointed out.

"No, Swifty or Pie Eater are usually here to help. You remember how the shopkeepers around here are."

"Moouussee…" Blink begged, "Pllleeaassee…"

She threw up her hands, "Fine, go." She yelled after him as he took off. "Try to sell some of your share while you visit. Back here in an hour or two. I swear if you're late I'll kill you!"

Without signaling if he'd heard or not Blink disappeared form sight around a turn. Mouse threw up her hands in frustration before turning to the nearest cart or wares.

She walked up and down the main roads stopping at each stand to try and sell their gold from the palace. No one wanted her business.

"Sexist pigs," Mouse mumbled as she reached the point where she had started an hour before. "I hope Blink's had better luck than I have."

She noticed a vendor who had just finished setting up. Mouse looked at him skeptically.

"The worst they can do is say no." she said aloud to herself.

She strode over to the large stand and pounded on the wooden counter-top.

"Good evening, Sir," she greeted the owner, "I have some gold items here, straight from the palace," She took out a several gold coins and figurines to show him and continued, "I was wondering if you'd be interested in purchasing some. Very low price I promise."

The man looked her over, "How dare you speak to me, wretched woman! Not entirely your fault, I suppose. You can't be from around these parts with an accent like that. Just where are you from, that you don't know your place woman?" He demanded.

"Cascade" She spoke with confidence.

He was a heavy man, large and intimidating. Upon his bald head was a mark indicating his trade. Cheap gold earrings hung from disfigured ears, and a great burning scar, obviously some form of dark magic for it was forever ablaze, ran from his left temple to his chin. The man had unnaturally orange eyes and a crooked yellowed grin. A burgundy colored vest was clad on his bare chest, along with black and burgundy striped pants, the style of many sailors of the day. His clothes too were cheap and gave off the odor of stale beer. He looked Mouse over.

"And why should I accept these items, woman? I've been watching you so I know nobody's been buying anything. But suppose I do, what's in it for me? Hmm…?"

Suddenly he seized her wrist with his strong large hand and roughly pulled her across the table forcing their eyes to meet. "Well? If I helped you out you'd be in my debt. I've heard stories about you Cascadian women, so what would I get out of it?"

Mouse was stunned by his malicious words. She was too shocked to be angry, and instead felt a strange numbness creep over her. She tried to free herself from his grip to no avail.

Blink had returned to meet her when he witnessed this. He was outraged. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth together in anger at the man. No one talked to Mouse in that manner, or treated her in such a way, especially not while he was around.

With quick strides, and mumbling Cascadian curses under his breath he ran to where she stood and quicker than the eye could blink had one of his new daggers directed at the man's throat.

"How dare you sir," he growled, "What do you think you're doing insulting a woman like that. She may be of low class but that is no excuse. Now take it back, I have plenty of friends close by and I'm willing to bet that none of them will be happy leaving you in one piece once we hear your excuse."

The man had paled slightly as Blink spoke. Blink could feel himself pulling water toward them from some direction, just in case it was necessary.

"Blink," Mouse cried, "Blink, calm down and let him apologize."

Blink looked at her, his anger broken, and the water was released from a nearby barrel and dropped to the dry ground.

"I am terrible sorry, ma'am," the owner quickly apologized as though his life were on the line. Blink looked like any other Cascadian boy looked, strong and powerful. Dark purple aura still swayed around the threads of his clothing. "Please, let me buy some of your wares."

The man paid a large sum for several small items and the two set off again. Returning to the tavern to rest suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

Meanwhile Hotshot and Specs were leading Dutchy around Brindisi. Weaving their way through shops and vendor carts they finally reached their goal; the great bath house. It was filled with, large, steamy baths of various kinds; from mud to herbal, they had them all. Each was designed as some kind of remedy for one's health. This was one of the main attractions of Brindisi for it was the only bath house of its kind in the entire country of Tralee.

Hotshot and Specs were attracted to them for their own personal reasons. They often spent days there using the spa like facilities together. Often did it relax them and allowed them to forget of their troubles in the world. It was a favorite place of all the thieves because on these journeys it was one of the few places they could relax. Here is where they took Dutchy because they knew the noble would take a likeness to the rich treatment and relaxation one received in the bath house. But the main reason was that they wanted to go selling alone, without having to worry about a tag-along. So they dropped him off in the bath house and promised to return quickly. Dutchy was not stupid. He knew where they were going and what they were selling, but he urged them to go and leave him to relax. After two days of riding he was sore. There had been no wars since he had become a squire and no reason for Aurelie to push him so hard.

After making sure that the hosts would be able to keep their noble friend busy for several hours Specs and Hotshot wandered back into the streets. They strayed off the main road into a smaller, more secluded market. The people there may have not been quite as respectable but they still paid a good price for delicate goods.

"All I have to say is we're going back to the bath house after this," Hotshot chided Specs, "I have a feeling it's going to be a long, stressful ride, and I could use an hour or two of relaxing."

"Fine," Specs muttered as they crossed an intersection. He looked around in bewilderment, "Do you remember where his cart is?"

"Specs, what are you- He's your friend, you should be able to remember-"

"Well, excuse me if I don't have you amazing sense of direction."

Her eyes narrowed. After a moment of silence she continued, "Maybe it's a street or two over."

The two of them strolled along the street and past several respectable shops to a small corner where there were several colorfully decorated stands. There were a few draped in dark hangings, and Specs moved in the direction of one of those.

"I would stay cross with you but this is probably one of the few chances to tell you how grateful I am we're stuck with the nobles on this trip." He continued seeing her raise an eyebrow, "You look good in that dress Lady Aurelie gave you."

She sent him a glare, at which he only laughed. However, he raised a hand in warning when she started to mutter under her breath. "None of that now."

He called out to one cart's owner as he finally recognized the young man's tunic, "Felix, how are you?"

The man turned. He was barely any older than Specs by appearance, and like the thief his hand were calloused and his skin tanned from spending all his days outside and dealing with the city's seedy traders.

"Well, look who we have here?" He extended a hand to them, "I wasn't expecting you until at least next summer."

"Change of plans," Specs shrugged, "We got the opportunity to come earlier. It's more on the business side than usual but we do get to do a bit of trading."

At the word 'trading' Felix's eyes lit up. He had been hoping they had brought him some jewels, but never got his hopes up. Precious stones and jewelry were what he sold.

Both the thieves noticed his reaction and Hotshot could not help but grin. Felix's eyes were as wide as those of a babe on midwinter's day. She slid the long, thin package from inside the pocket of her coat. She placed it on the table and unrolled it as slowly as possible. In the cloth package laid several pairs or earrings, bracelets, necklaces, rings, some loose stones, and several other attractive items.

Felix whipped out an eyeglass and began examining them. After a quick look over he looked back at them, "This is the best lot yet, I think."

"How much?" Hotshot asked, all business.

"For which?" Felix was examining a ruby brooch as he questioned her

"The lot of it?"

The eyeglass and brooch were lowered to the countertop. "You don't want any to sell in Av-" He cut himself off and glanced around, as though everyone around wanted to know the city's location.

"We've got plenty more for there. It was a good heist, don't worry about it. We'll be back with plenty more next time." Specs prompted.

Felix looked over the cloth in front of him for a moment, calculating prices in his head. "Ninety rusheks."

"A hundred," Hotshot insisted.

Felix shook his head, "Ninety-five."

"One-ten."

Felix rolled his eyes at her childish manipulation, "Fine, one hundred it is."

Hotshot gave him a triumphant look and sat on the counter as Felix counted out the money to Specs. He hid the money in the deep pockets of his vest. The two of them watched as Felix hurried to pack their goods up.

"So, how is everyone else?" Felix asked once the parcels were hidden in a pack.

"Spot's too uptight, Race is an idiot, and Pie, Swifty, Snitch, and Itey are the same as always, but they're back in Tralee this time. Blink is a ladies man as always."

Felix laughed, "What about Mouse?"

It was a well-known fact that Felix had had a thing for Mouse for several years. Mouse had returned the feelings at one time but nothing had come of it and she no longer returned his feelings.

"She's got too much on her plate to take on anyone else right now," Hotshot let him down, "but I'll send your regards."

"Thank you." Felix said.

"Umm… Felix," Specs started after a moment of silence, "You remember that few years back when you made that offer to us. I'd like to take you up on it now."

"What?" Hotshot asked. She'd been prepared to chat for a while longer before returning to the tavern. Specs' sudden subject change made her want to leave immediately.

Felix's eyes went wide, "Of course." He uncovered a case full of all the rings he had for sale. "Not engagement yet I take it."

"No," Hotshot answered more forcefully than was probably necessary.

"No." Specs echoed her.

"What are you doing?" Hotshot hissed at him.

"Later," was all Specs would say.

He pointed the ring out to Felix, an intricately carved silver band decorated with a Celtic knotted strand, and several small emeralds laid into the crevices.

"Just don't forget to bring your business back here next time." Felix said as he handed Specs the ring. It went into Specs' pocket without any more words between the three. They bid hasty goodbyes.

Specs took Hotshot's hand in his as they turned the corner. They were not going to get to be alone often so he sought to take advantage of the situation. She sent him a glance every few steps as the two of them returned to the bath house for a bit of relaxation before their treacherous night, but said nothing in regards to the ring.

Frustrated, Spot stormed out into the crowds grabbing hold of the nobles and pulling them to the safety of the curbs. Breathing heavily, the stunned trio caught their breaths and hurried after Spot who was already on the move. Spot led them to quiet streets far from the inner city bustle. There he saw a shabby looking hut and entered.

The group entered into a dim smoke filled room and took a seat at a lone table secluded in the corner. A man took notice of Spot's entrance; nodding toward him he ended his conversation and slid into the empty seat beside Spot.

"Who are they?" He inquired raising an eyebrow suspiciously toward Jack, Wolfgang, and David.

"Ignore them and get down to business Raz."

"Yeah sure. So what did you bring me this time?"

Reaching under his shirt, the Rogue leader produced a package and placed it on the table. Carefully unwrapping it to reveal two figurines he displayed both on the table. The first, a large crystal unicorn trimmed in diamonds of various colors. The second was a solid gold shield, adorned with the royal crest. "Both from the inner chambers of the palace in Tralee."

Raz seized the unicorn and examined it to determine its worth. "Hmm…I'll take this off you for twenty rusheks." He concluded setting it down and moving on to the shield. Spot however was not pleased with the sum. "It's worth thirty rusheks and five melis easy and that doesn't even come close to its face value."

"What are you doing Spot! You can't sell that, it was a gift to my mother!" Jack suddenly exclaimed coming out of his shocked silence.

Spot glared at the prince while sending him a sharp kick beneath the table. "Keep your mouth shut!"

Raz eyed Jack curiously and chose to address Spot. "What's he talking about? I thought these were both from the palace."

"They are"

"Then what's all this about it being his mother's? He must be mad to think a street rat like him could pass as the son of the Queen."

"Don't pay attention to him he's delusional." Spot responded in a dismissing tone. "So what about it, I'll cut you thirty rusheks for the unicorn and fifty for the shield. That's eighty rusheks all together, though I should charge more as compensation for such trouble."

"Eighty rusheks! Spot, I'm not made of money. I'll give you forty for the lot."

"That's insane," David mumbled loudly from the other side of the table, "He could charge a hundred for the two of them easily."

"He's right Raz, but here's what I'm going to do," Spot paused, "I'm going to cut you a deal, seventy"

"Forty"

"Sixty rusheks and five melis, that's my final offer, take it or leave it."

"Make that three melis and you've got yourself a deal."

"Done!" And with that said the exchange was made. Spot collected the money and handed the packaged goods to Raz. The two shook hands and ordered a round of drinks for the table. The two old friends spent the next few hours catching up ignoring the three nobles who remained uncomfortable in the setting.

"Well it was good seeing you again Raz. I believe we should be making off about now. I've got to get these guys back to Sem's for some rest. I will look you up when I'm here next."

"Don't make yourself a stranger now. Good luck to you Spot!"

In the streets Jack quickened his pace to a jog to keep up with Spot. "I suppose you think yourself a salesman. When my father learns of what you've done he'll have your head."

"Look I don't care to whom those stupid things belonged. The fact of the matter is that I need the money; he needs a present for his girl. He's an old friend and so when I'm on a job I'll keep an eye out for certain things he needs. In return he pays a good price and helps me out when I need it." Spot snapped. They continued the journey to the tavern in silence.

When they reached the main road again they noticed the crowds had subsided enough to ensure they would not need to risk being run over to cross the street. Rounding the corner they could see Sem's in the distance, the lone tavern on the darkest corner of the street. The old sign creaked in the wind and a small dismal flame flickered in the window. Spot, in a sense, was much like the old tavern secluded and reserved from the world. Perhaps that was why he enjoyed it so much.

Spot quickened his pace taking long strides as they neared the tavern. They would be the last to return to the tavern as he had just seen Hotshot, Specs, and Dutchy enter. The leader burst inside as though he owned the place and looked over his men. Race sat at the bar, barely intoxicated, and laughing at nothing in particular. Blink was just dealing Hotshot, Specs, and Dutchy into a game of cards. There was already money on the table and disgruntled looking patrons across the bar. Mouse was just coming back to the main floor after what must have been a nap.

Annoyed, Spot went over to the bar and struck the beer glasses to the ground. Race stopped laughing immediately.

"What did you do that for?" Came his response.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Spot boomed, "I asked you not to get drunk! One simple thing; you can't even do one simple thing! I should just leave you behind! I swear I will if you aren't sober enough to ride in the cart and keep your mouth shut!"

"Conlon you need to lighten up."

"Sem! Don't give him any more alcohol. In fact give him coffee, black. And just keep it coming. I'll deal with you later."

As the banter came to an end Mouse finally woke enough to comprehend it was Spot shouting.

"What was all that noise for anyway?" She asked taking a seat across from Hotshot.

"Spot blew up at Race again. Threatened to leave him behind, nothing new."

"Aw Spot, you big softy" Mouse teased. Spot gave her a look before changing the subject.

"Who are you partnered with Mouse?"

"Huh? Spot I'm not- oh, OH!" The girl exclaimed as the realization of what he meant hit her.

"And who are you partnered Race? And you Specs; how about you? Can any of you tell me why you deliberately ignored my request?"

"Hey, Hotshot and I had Dutchy with us Spot" Specs protested.

"Well that's good Specs but you should also have had Jack with you and Mouse, you and Blink should have had Dutchy and David with you."

"Mr. _'you-don't- know-what-a-tent-is?'_ Forget it!"

"And what's your excuse Racetrack?" Spot snapped.

"You seriously think I'm gonna drag that stiff around with me? He'll cramp my style." He downed half a cup of coffee.

"Cramp your style? _CRAMP **YOUR** STYLE_! How the hell do you think I felt dragging these three with me to meet Raz! "

"I think it was good for you, you need some social involvement" Hotshot chided. She sent him an annoyed look along with her opinion. "But, hey, I'm partnered with you. Maybe I should have tagged along with you to see Raz. Fletcher knows he would love to see me again." She of course, referred to the memorable occasion on which she had accompanied Spot and unintentionally insulted Raz and not taken care to apologize.

"I wander alone; I always wander alone." He turned on his heel and stormed up the stairs.

With that said the rogues rolled their eyes and set about preparing. Hotshot and Mouse packed the horses, while the rest gathered their bags of clothing and supplies, food, and water.

1

"Hey Mouse, Felix sends his greetings."

Mouse rolled her eyes, "Shut up, I do not need that kind of added stress right now." She tightened the girth of one of the saddles and scowled at her friend. "And that comment you made to Spot was completely uncalled for."

"So is his attitude," Hotshot slid a bridle onto the same horse as Mouse tied on a pack.

"Spot's always like that. He just wants everything to run smoothly. Granted, this is not some short project but we cannot just sit back and relax."

"See, that's where Spot's logic is wrong. Yes, we can. As soon as the nobles relax so can we. Dutchy's already a liaison and it's just a matter of time before we get through to the rest of them."

"Let him worry. It keeps him sane." Mouse suggested, grinning.

Hotshot laughed loudly.

Mouse did as well until she saw a shadow at the stable's entrance. She cleared her throat and nodded.

"Hotshot?"

"What?" Hotshot did not look up from saddling another horse as Specs walked into the stall.

"Hotshot."

She looked up at him, and sighed. She stood up and approached the stall door, eying him warily, still unsure of his plans.

"I want you to wear this." He reached deep in his pocket and drew out the ring he'd bought earlier, now hanging from a thin chain.

She looked at it with distaste. "I don't want to wear that." She did not move when he put the necklace on her anyway.

"I just want people to know you're spoken for while we're doing this."

"Everyone already knows."

"Not other thieves, Hotshot. In Odessa, when we have to act all noble and wealthy and cultured."

"All right." She agreed. She had no intention of doing so, but it was easier to agree now and back out later.

"Aw, how cute." Mouse cooed from where she was packing up the cart.

"Mouse, with Thym as my witness, I swear if you say one word I will-"

"**_WHAT?_**" Spot's voice echoed form inside the tavern, cutting off any threats. It was closely followed by several curses in multiple languages.

"Unpack the horses." Specs told them.

"Why?" Mouse asked, still looking in the direction of the tavern, not looking forward to reentering when Spot was upset.

"New traveler came in from the Glama just after you two came out here. There are sandstorms, the winds are horrible. Even Spot wouldn't be able to stay on course. We're going to have to travel along the deserts edge to Medina."

"Spot certainly sounds happy about that," Mouse muttered sarcastically as she entered a stall and began removing a saddle.

"As always." Specs agreed, "We won't leave until tomorrow now."

"Thus eliminating any chance of Spot fulfilling his life's goal to make Race miserable when he's drunk," Hotshot concluded.

Specs smirked and kissed her on the cheek before darting back inside. Mouse and Hotshot set about unsaddling the half dozen horses which were prepared to leave. By the time they got back inside Spot would be calmed down and nursing a drink and their beds would be looking pretty comfortable.

1

1

A/N: And thus ends the rewrite of the original. If you actually read it then you know there was another chapter. We decided to cut that out in favor of the new direction the storyline is going in. Plus, the characters we dropped for this one needed to get lost. Anyway, good information coming up in the next few chapters. And there have been complaints that the thieves are sort of bitchy towards the nobles. It's supposed to be that way. Transition/bonding chapters are also coming up quite quickly.

I'm off to celebrate the latest update with a bowl of ice cream. If you review perhaps we shall bake you brownies.

Exempt From Sanity


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